


The Seventh Bride

by destinyofamerath



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Also Stormpilot if you squint, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Arranged Marriage, Awkward Sex, F/M, Kylo Ren is a dragon, Minor Finnrey but I don't want to clog the tag, Pregnancy, more tags to be added as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6829819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destinyofamerath/pseuds/destinyofamerath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through a strange twist of fate, Rey suddenly finds herself married to the Marquess of the Reach, a mysterious man who she has never seen and whose name she has never learned.  All she knows is this: the Marquess has been married six times before, and each time, the dragon Kylo Ren has devoured his wife within a year of their marriage.</p><p>Medieval AU based off of “Psyche and Eros” and “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” with a healthy dose of “Beauty and the Beast” thrown in for good measure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sands of Jakku

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter title: "Would you like some plot with your exposition?"

“One _quarter_ portion.”

Rey gritted her teeth as Unkar Plutt swept her spoils for the day - a set of iron greaves, a pauldron emblazoned with the sigil of House Calrissian in blue and green, a single metal gauntlet for the right hand, and the front portion of a breastplate, only slightly dented - off the counter and into the arms of one of his goons. In return, he dumped the appropriate amount of flour into her extended burlap sack, along with two slices of dried and salted meat that she knew tasted distinctly like wood chips caked in sand. He pointedly ignored her sullen look, instead shouting for the next person in the long line behind Rey to approach.

On a different day, Rey might have fought him on it.  Her spoils were worth a portion and a half for the lot at the very least, especially considering that most of the pieces were in good repair, if not in matching sets. Iron was more valuable than gold in Jakku, she should have _at least_ been able to feed herself for the day with what she had brought back.

But Unkar Plutt was in a _mood_ that day - she had already seen him send two of his apprentices away without supper that day, and she wasn’t ready to risk what little he had been willing to give her.

Rey hefted the disparagingly light sack over her shoulder.  She spared only a single, longing glance at the warehouse behind Plutt’s stall; the one she knew to be filled to the brim not just with flour and old, salted meat, but also with dried fruits, nuts, assorted grains, and candies.  Fresh food was even imported occasionally, venison and mutton and beef and vegetables, though of course such delicacies were reserved for the chief blacksmith alone.  He was far too cheap to allow his dozens of apprentices - the ones who found the iron and steel that was re-shaped into fine armor, who shod horses and refined the metal, who did almost _all_ of the work - to eat well.

Rey had tried to sneak into the warehouse once when she was young, at a time when her hunger and foolishness had outweighed her common sense.  One of the guards Plutt employed to protect his stock had caught her before she could steal so much as a cube of sugar and had given Rey the beating of her life.  He had broken her arm in the encounter, and little Rey had nearly starved during the month it took to heal.  With a heavy sigh, she turned her back on the warehouse.

She found Falcon where she had tied him to a post near the edge of town.  The old, grey gelding was stretched to the end of his tether, his neck extended out as he reached for a fellow scavenger sitting pointedly just out of reach, his teeth clicking together empty just inches away from Teedo’s back.  

“ _No_ ,” she told him pointedly, and Falcon jerked back to his full height and blinked angelically at her.  As she approached to untie his reins, he lipped softly at the scarf wrapped around her neck and face, the very picture of innocence.  Rey rolled her eyes and patted his neck.  The dust cloud that arose from his flank as he shook himself off revealed the paler dapples that covered his hide.  The dirt got into everything in Jakku, covering everything in a fine layer of brown.

She made a mental note to give him an extra brushing once she returned home tonight, like she did every night.  He made no protest as Rey swung into his saddle.  “Looks like we’re going hungry again tonight,” she muttered to him, and Falcon shook his head, tugging on his reins.  Rey had been hungrier before - besides, if they made good time back to her hut, they would arrive before sunset, and the little desert lizards would be out and about in the cooler hours before night fell.  Rey was a decent shot with a bow; maybe she could hit one of the larger ones and cook it over the fire.

Rey tapped her heels into Falcon’s sides and clicked her tongue at the thought, and once more, the two were off.

When it came to navigating the deserts of Jakku - or anywhere, really - there was no better horse than Falcon.  He was far from a thoroughbred, but Rey preferred the cantankerous gelding to horse royalty any day.  He was reliable, he was loyal, and he would stride through old battlefields littered with ancient skeletons, or along narrow cliffs with steep drops, or even past recently dead bodies, the blood still staining the sand, without batting an eye.

On top of that, his temper made him a bit of a legend around Niima Outpost, and the other apprentices avoided him when they could.  Rey knew she could leave her finds for the day near him, and Falcon would take a chunk out of anyone who wandered too close to it out of principle, if not fidelity.

The two skirted Kelvin Ravine, to the north of town, Falcon’s hooves kicking up a layer of sand as he picked up his pace from a trot into a canter.  The Ravine was known for being the site of a battle waged in Jakku several centuries before - Rey couldn’t remember which.  A great _many_ battles had been fought in the fief over the years; she couldn’t be bothered to remember which battlefield corresponded with which war.

Once, Jakku had been famed for its iron mines, and had been the source of nearly every reputable armorer’s steel.  Dozens of battles were fought for control of the mines over the years, until the unification of the kingdom had brought an end to the bloody battles in the time of the warlords.  The iron was shipped all over the kingdom, and lords and kings alike bragged about their Jakku Steel armor and swords.

That is, until the iron mines had suddenly dried up, and Jakku was left destitute.  Without its largest source of revenue - it’s _only_ source of revenue, really - it quickly became one of the poorest fiefs in the kingdom, and the people fled it in exodus.

It was Unkar Plutt, a blacksmith who had once forged beautiful weapons with Jakku Steel, that had the ingenious idea that saved them, supposedly - most of the bodies had been left behind, still in their armor, after all those old battles.  The armor could be re-used - the dents hammered out, or melted down for raw steel to make new items.  In this way, the economy could be revived, and Jakku would flourish once again.

Well, ‘flourish’ was a strong word - the residents would be able to _survive_ , at least.  And because this was Plutt, he stood to profit the most.  He hired on dozens of apprentices - scavengers, more like - to ride into the perilous deserts of Jakku to retrieve the old armor, and in return, he would feed them and teach them the basics of the blacksmith’s trade.

Thus Jakku had existed since before Rey was born and would continue until long after she had died.  Like every other scavenger in Jakku, she would risk life and limb to ride out into the desert to find Plutt’s steel, and would continue to do so until the day she ran out of luck.

It wasn’t all bad, though, she thought as she dismounted Falcon just outside of her home.  Her hut was modified from an old military barracks - an ancient, empty building Rey had repaired herself.  It only had a single room, but it was large - the perfect place for a girl and her horse to live.  She had sectioned it off years ago - a stable in the front half and her living space through a small gate to the back.  The sound of Falcon munching hay or snorting on the other side of the building sent her to sleep more surely than any lullaby.  She had a roof over her head, a reliable well, and a source of food, even if Plutt was prone to withholding from time to time.

_“Rey!”_

And good friends, of course.  Rey grinned and poked her head out of the large, double doors that opened into her home.  There, riding toward her at a trot on his great white stallion, was Finn, her closest friend and confidante.  

A few years ago, Rey never would have imagined having a companion like Finn.  Her early life was spent alone - first under Plutt’s flabby, fatty wing, then on her own in the old barracks.  She hadn’t thought she needed anyone else - she could wait here, until her family returned for her, and then _they_ would be all she needed.  She hadn’t even recognized that she was lonely.

It was only a couple of years ago that Finn had come into her life, riding that white stallion with the crossed eyes around in circles around town, the poor horse too stupid to realize it was going nowhere.  Rey had pointed him in the right direction of the little river hamlet he was looking for, a village that was a whole fief over - Rey still didn’t know how he had managed to get so lost - but by that point, the sun was already kissing the horizon, and Finn had followed her home like a lost pup, looking for a place to stay the night.  She remembered thinking that she should have chased him away with her staff.

To this day, she was so, _so_ glad she hadn’t.

Finn had left in the morning with a cheery grin, and Rey had stared at the compressed pile of hay he had slept on for several minutes, confused by the strange encounter, before going about her day.

But barely a week later, he had shown up again on her doorstep with that same dopey smile and a sack of vegetables.  The only reason she let him stay was because he had food, and he had settled himself by her hearth to share a meal.  “To thank you for your help last week,” he had told her.

He ended up staying long past the sun set, and Rey had allowed him to stay in the hay pile he had slept in last time.  He showed up again the next week, and then the next, and the week after, as well.  His visits increased in frequency until he was showing up on her doorstep nearly every night, always with a small sack of food to share and a cheery grin, until Rey found she didn’t _want_ to chase him away anymore.  Suddenly, she couldn’t imagine a day where he wouldn’t come visit,  a time when they wouldn’ sit by the hearth, sharing stories and laughing.  Finn had become a part of her life - he had gained her companionship, and later her trust, and he had it before she even realized she had given it, as evidenced by the fact that she had given him an actual pallet to sleep on and had begun to expect his visits.  Finally, she gave in, and just started inviting him to her home after he worked.

But Finn couldn’t be there all the time - as a farmhand, he worked long hours during harvesting and planting seasons, and since he lived a fief over, there were days he couldn’t return to the cozy little home they had created together.  Visiting him was difficult - he lived in a house on the farm, packed to the brim with other workers during the busy season, though most returned to their families in the nearby village when the fields lay fallow.  Not only was there no room for her to stay, but by the time he returned, it was late at night, and he was often too exhausted for idle chatting.

Rey hadn’t expected to see him for a few weeks - winter was fast approaching, not that one could tell in the dry desert heat, but soon the river that ran through the farming village would crest the banks and flood the fields, marking the beginning of the wet season.  All of the crops had to be harvested before that happened - but afterwards, there would be months of peace, in which Finn could visit every day while they waited for the river to recede, happy to contribute to and share a meal with her.

As Finn approached, Rey raised her hand to wave at him, the smile still plastered across her face - and froze.  The white stallion he rode upon was followed closely behind by a second horse, a small but hardy-looking cream-colored horse with patches of brown so bright they were nearly orange.  It was led along by a lead line tied to the saddle horn.  

But it wasn’t the horse that worried her, though that was certainly unusual - it was the second figure riding double with Finn, an arm wrapped around his waist to keep himself balanced on the horse’s broad back.

“Rey!”  Finn repeated her name as he swung his leg over Storm’s back and slid to the ground.  He strode over and wrapped his arms around her in a quick hug, oblivious to how stiff her form was.  He pulled back after a moment, still smiling at her.  “Sorry for stopping by unexpectedly,” he said, though she doubted he was - she was used to Finn stopping by without any prior warning, though not during this time of year.  “Something came up, so I had to come visit.”

“Finn,” Rey greeted him coolly.  Her chill gaze turned to the second figure, who hopped off of Storm’s back with an easy grace that spoke of years of professionally trained horsemanship.  “Who’s your friend?”

“This is - “

“Poe Dameron, knight of Coruscant and emissary of Her Majesty, Queen Leia Organa,” the stranger introduced himself with a smile, his teeth very white against his tanned skin.  He bowed with an elaborate flourish.  “I’m traveling through the Reach on official business for the Crown.”

“From _Coruscant_ , Rey,” Finn repeated, his eyes wide and excited.  “You should _hear_ the stories he has to tell.”

“I’m sure he can spin quite the tale,” Rey said dryly.  Poe reached for her hand, no doubt to lay a kiss across her knuckles like a true courtier, but Rey jerked it away and laced her fingers behind her back before he had a chance.

She eyed him up and down warily.  Finn’s stranger certainly was handsome, with dark, windswept hair pushed back from his brow and a jawline strong enough to cut glass.  A light stubble covered his cheeks, as if he hadn’t seen a razor in a couple of days, but he made it seem intentional.  His eyes sparkled with intelligence and wit - but Rey knew that attractive and wiley were often a dangerous combination.

Finn, however, was much more trusting, and always had been.  He was quick to smile and quick to love, which made him easy prey for heralds - or smooth strangers with blinding smiles and stories of adventures from the capitol.  Rey had always been the wary one, the one who didn’t trust, the one who questioned identities and motivations.

But if Rey had it her way, she’d never trust anyone, never let anyone into her life.  The only reason Finn had wormed his way into her heart was because he was one of the purest people she had ever met - there was no way that level of kind, innocent _goodness_ could be feigned.  He was the one that reminded her that not everyone had an ulterior motive, than not every starving orphan begging for scraps had a knife hidden in their ragged clothes - only most of them.  He was her better half, in a sense - but she was the half that kept him from getting killed.

“Rey,” she finally introduced herself, though she kept her hands to herself and glared as she did so.  “Tell me, Finn,” she asked, “What brings _Sir_ Dameron, one of the queen’s own knights, to my humble doorstep?”

If Poe heard the skepticism in her voice, he gave no sign of it.  “Call me Poe,” he chirped cheerily.  “My new friend here tells me you’re good with animals.  I’ve been having trouble with my mount for the past couple of days.  I don’t know how to describe it, but her gait seems _off_.  It might be nothing - but it’d give me some peace of mind to know it’s something I don’t have to worry about.”

Rey approached the mare carefully, unhooking her lead line from Storm’s saddle.  She pricked her ears forward at Rey’s approach, and Rey tugged her forward gently.  Obediently, she stepped forward a couple of paces, and sure enough, something about the way she walked didn’t sit right with Rey.  “This is her first time in the desert, isn’t it?” she asked.  “Not used to the sand?”

Poe nodded.  “It’s mostly fields outside of Coruscant.  She hasn’t seen much rough terrain before, but she’s taken to it remarkably well.  Well, until recently, at least.”

“And you’ve been picking her hooves?”

“Of course.”

Rey stroked a large, orange patch on the mare’s cheek, and she nuzzled into Rey’s shoulder, lipping at the fabric of her shirt.  Rey turned her head to blow into her nostril, a silly horse greeting she had picked up from Falcon years ago, and the mare blew a puff of air back at her, much to Rey’s delight.

She paused for a moment, glancing between Poe and the horse in front of her.  She was reluctant to let Poe anywhere near her home, let alone inside of it.  Strangers were not to be trusted.  But horses - horses were good.  Horses didn’t hurt people for their own gain - only if they were scared or upset or angry.  Horses didn’t go behind your back, horses didn’t betray you, horses didn’t leave you behind.  She couldn’t let one that was so sweet remain in distress.

But her rider…

“I have food,” Poe offered.  “The Lord and Lady of the last fief I visited gave me far too much.  I’d be happy to give you some in exchange for your help.”

Rey immediately perked up.  “Oh, good,” she replied, leading the horse back to her barn.  “Come on inside, and we’ll take a look and find out what’s wrong.”  Finn plucked up Storm’s reins and shot Poe a grin when he thought Rey wasn’t looking.  She only rolled her eyes in response.

“What’s her name?” she asked as led the horse into one of the small stalls she had constructed inside.  “Your horse, I mean.”

“BB-8,” Poe replied.

Rey paused from untacking the mare, turning to stare at Poe.   _“BB-8?”_

Poe shrugged with an easy smile.  “Foaling season tends to get busy at the royal stables,” he replied by way of explanation, “but we’ve never seen as wild a day as when she was born.  By the time the last one was born, they were so tired of thinking up names that they just named her ‘Baby Eight’.  I call her BB-8, or BB for short.”  BB snorted in agreement.

“Stars save me from owners and the stupid names they give their horses,” Rey muttered, before returning to lightening BB’s load.  She spared a quick glance into Poe’s saddlebags, searching for anything suspicious, but all she could see were clothes, letters, and a canteen of water.  She turned to hook the saddlebags over the edge of the stall, and -

“Hey!”  Poe paused in his survey of Falcon.  The old gelding’s eyes were sharp on the newcomer, though Poe remained out of range of his teeth.  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she warned Poe.  “He bites.”

“He does,” Finn confirmed from where he was brushing Storm down.  “I have the scars to prove it.”

“It’ll be fine,” Poe dismissed them, approaching Falcon with his hand leading.  Falcon’s ears pricked up as Poe stepped closer, no doubt waiting until he was close enough that he could nip at something _really_ painful.   _Here we go,_ Rey thought as Falcon stretched his neck out -

\- only to drag his tongue through Poe’s hair, grazing at the dark curls atop his head.  Poe laughed and patted his neck.  Slowly, the tension slid out of Rey.  She may not have trusted Poe - but horses had a good sense of people.  If Falcon thought Poe wasn’t dangerous, then Rey could believe that his intentions were good - or, at least, they weren’t bad.  “I’ve never seen him do that,” Rey admitted.

“I like horses,” Poe replied, “so I want them to like me.  That generally means that I’m willing to cheat a bit to get that to happen.”  He winked back at Rey and produced a sugar cube from his pocket, which Falcon immediately gobbled up with gusto.  “Any luck with BB?”

“Working on it,” Rey replied, turning back to the horse.  Now that she didn’t have to worry about Poe, she could see the mare was visibly distressed.  Though her eyes were bright and focused, she kept shifting from hoof to hoof, almost as if she was nervous, though BB didn’t strike her as a nervous horse.

“Hey there, sweet thing,” Rey crooned to the horse as she patted her soothingly, running her hands down her front legs.  Yes, she could definitely feel BB’s discomfort, the pain radiating outwards from just beneath her fingertips.  Gently, she plucked BB’s hoof from the ground to take a peek at her hoof.

“That’s the problem,” she said decisively, and Poe peeked his head over the wall from where he had been petting Falcon.

“What is?” he asked, trying to see what Rey was looking at.

“When was the last time she was shod?”

“A few days ago, in Sullust.”  Rey only barely managed to keep from laughing as soon as he spoke.  “She’s new to horseshoes, since she never needed them before we left Coruscant.  I would have preferred to use a royal farrier, but we’ve been on the road, and he offered us a good price for high-quality shoes.”

“I know exactly who you’re talking about,” Rey replied with a scowl.  “He uses quality steel, but he doesn’t know a thing about horses or shoeing them.  I can’t believe he’s still in business.”  She waved Poe into the stall.  “Take a look - the shoe’s too small.”  She dragged her fingernail along the space between the edge of the horseshoe and the outside of her hoof, and BB fidgeted in her grasp before Rey set her leg down.  “With a shoe that’s too small, she’s going to wobble, and it’s easier to pick up stray stones - not to mention easier to hurt herself on them.  No wonder she’s walking funny.”

“And here I was thinking she just had a wild night with that stallion down by the river village.  At least now I know I don’t have to worry about any BB-9’s.”  At that, Rey finally cracked a smile at him, and Poe’s grin seemed all the more brilliant, even with the coating of horse slobber in his hair.  “In all seriousness, is there anything you can do to help?  Any reliable farriers you might know in Jakku?”

“I can do you one better,” Rey replied, heading over to her workbench to grab her pliers and hammer.  “I’ll re-shoe her for you, the right way - no extra cost.  Her hooves don’t look too much smaller than Falcon’s; I think I can re-shape them to fit her.”

Poe’s eyebrows furrowed.  “Are you a farrier?”

“Blacksmith,” Finn corrected.  Done with settling Storm in for the night, he walked over to join in on the conversation.

“Like everyone else in Jakku,” Rey muttered in agreement, lifting BB’s hoof between her knees to pull the nails out of the first shoe.  BB tugged her foot away and waltzed toward the other side of the stable.  “Finn, come hold her head,” Rey turned her head to her friend.  “I can’t have her trying to conduct a dance lesson in my barn while I’m trying to pull these nails out.”

Finally, with Finn holding her head and Poe leaning against her flank to push her toward the wall, BB relaxed enough to let Rey tug the nails out of the first shoe one by one.  “There are no farriers in Jakku,” Rey explained while she worked.  “If there were, they would be driven out immediately.  Anything to do with steel or iron is done by the apprentice blacksmiths.”

“Not by the blacksmith himself?”

Rey barked out a short, bitter laugh as she set the nails and removed shoe aside and moved onto the next hoof.  “No.  I’ve never even seen the head blacksmith lift a hammer.”  She wondered if he even could - it was a wonder he was even able to walk, considering the layers upon layers of fat on his body.

“It’s fine,” Finn reassured Poe.  “Rey knows what she’s doing.  She does Storm’s shoes, and he’s never had a problem.”

Finally, all the horseshoes had been pulled from BB’s hooves, and Rey walked her up and down the barn a couple of times to check her movement.  Sure enough, her gait had evened out, now much more even and balanced than before.

After a couple of rounds, Rey handed her reins off to Finn.  “Can you clean her hooves for me?” she asked.  “I need to light up the forge so I can re-shape the shoes.”  Finn nodded and led BB-8 off.

Rey focused on shoveling coal into the forge.  “So, Sir Dam - Poe,” she corrected herself as she stood, deeming the forge had enough fuel for her purposes.  She went in search of her flint to start the fire.  “What brings an agent of the Crown to our own personal slice of hell?”

Poe was silent for a long time, long enough for Rey to light the fire and begin pumping the bellows to fan the flames.  “Look,” she said, “if it’s some sort of secret mission for the queen, that’s fine, but I need you to - “

“It’s not that,” Poe interrupted.  “I’m _supposed_ to tell you about it - you and everyone else.  It’s just...not good news.”

Rey hesitated for a moment.  The nobility getting involved in the lives of the common folk was never good news - and if it was bad news even by those standards, it must have been very worrying indeed.  Suddenly, Rey wasn’t sure she even wanted to know.

But even if ignorance was bliss, Rey much preferred to prepare for the future than go into a crisis blind.  “There is no good news in Jakku.  Whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it.  Just tell me.”

After a moment’s more hesitation, Poe spoke.  “The Marquess of the Reach is in the market for a wife.”

Rey froze in her work, the first horseshoe halfway extended into the flames.  Their conversation caught Finn’s attention, who poked his head over the edge of the stall BB was using.  “What happened to the last one?”

“Eaten,” Poe said grimly.  “Swallowed whole by the dragon.”

“Again?” Rey whispered.

“Again,” he confirmed.

The Marquess of the Reach was a mysterious figure, spoken of in hushed whispers in taverns in every fief in the Reach.  While even the lowest of peasants in other regions could tell you cursory details about the High Lords of their home - like that the Naberries of the Slice always inherited through the female line, and there hadn’t been a ruling Earl instead of an Earless in generations, or that the Grand Duke or Duchess of the Core was always an Organa and the heir to the throne - the Marquess of the Reach was a complete unknown.  Rey had heard that, once, the Reach had been ruled by the Skywalker family, but whether the current lord was a descendant or completely unrelated was another enigma.  No one even knew his _name_.

What _was_ known was that he had been married for the first time about five years ago, only for his wife to die about eight months later.  Days after her death, the Marquess had demanded another bride, and the lords and ladies of the fiefs of the Reach had produced another noble daughter from their ranks to send to marry the Marquess.  All was well - until she also died a little under a year later.  The cycle had repeated itself over and over throughout the years - and if what Poe was saying was true, then the Marquess had now been married and widowed six times.

It was the circumstances of their death, as well as those of his demands for a new wife, that made the situation all the more terrifying.  The stories told of a dragon who bowed to the Marquess’ every whim, who had devoured every single one of his wives, who rampaged and destroyed the villages that were supposed to be under his care if he was not provided with a new bride when the old one was consumed.  They said his body was made of the blackness of night between the stars, his wings of shadows brought to life.  His teeth were made of the swords of the many knights he had defeated, and his roar preceded a hundred orphan’s screams as their parents were taken right before their eyes.  Staring into his eyes was supposed to drive even the bravest of men to madness.

 _Kylo Ren._  The dark monster that had terrorized the Reach for more than half a decade.

Rey had seen the wreckage of one of his rampages before.  She had been scavenging several miles to the north of Tuanul when the dragon’s cry, barely audible from the distance, had reached her ears, shaking the stones beneath her feet and causing even calm, steady Falcon to fidget nervously.  The shadow, barely more than a speck, had circled once over the smoking village before turning south over the desert, away from Rey.

It had been poor judgement to investigate, but Rey had been curious - at the time, she had believed the stories of the dragon and the Marquess to be little more than tall tales.  But the buildings, burned to the ground in minutes in a fire hotter than she could ever build in her forge, the charred bones, the blood staining the sand were no fairytale - and Rey could imagine nothing, no creature or army, that could do this other than a dragon.  The iron from the armor and weapons of the village’s warriors had kept her fed for months - but Rey had never returned once it had been picked clean.  It had even felt wrong to invade it to scavenge.  Tuanul was a graveyard now - and the dead should be allowed to rest undisturbed.

But maybe Poe’s arrival was a good thing - perhaps it signaled an imminent change.

“So why _are_ you here?” Rey asked, pulling the first horseshoe out of the forge and bringing it over to the anvil.  “Has the queen finally had enough of her subject’s terror?  Is she organizing an army to kill the dragon?”

“No,” Poe replied, and Rey scowled.

“Aren’t rulers supposed to protect their subjects?” she demanded.  “The queen should have sent the army to deal with the dragon as soon as he began eating people.  Why hasn’t she done so?”

“Rey,” Finn said warningly, “You’re speaking about the queen to one of the men that serves her.  Watch your tone.”

“I won’t watch my tone when she’s not doing what she’s supposed to be doing,” Rey shot back hotly.

“The dragon ate her husband,” Poe said suddenly, and Rey quieted.  “Prince Consort Han Solo was eaten by the dragon, despite her best attempts to save him.  The royal army of Coruscant fought against him and lost.  I think Her Majesty believes appeasement to be the best solution - if she doesn’t give him what he wants, he’ll send the dragon to destroy the countryside.  There may be deaths this way - but at least she can control how many.”

Rey made a disgruntled noise, but didn’t argue.  “Fine, then,” she muttered.  “So the queen’s going to leave the dragon in peace.  What are you doing here, then?”

“As I said, the Marquess is in the market for a wife,” Poe replied.  “The queen has sent me to find him a new bride.”

“Ah,” Rey murmured.  “Going around to the noble houses to find eligible daughters?”

“Not exactly.”

Rey nearly groaned - that phrase was quickly becoming the bane of her existence.  “Then what _are_ you doing here?”

“Finding brides for the Marquess is not exactly an easy job,” Poe told her, “especially considering the rate he goes through them.  The queen has set up a lottery system to decide the next one - any woman in the Reach can enter.  The winner will marry the Marquess.  The drawing is set for the end of the season.”

“Seriously?” Rey grumbled.  “A lottery?  Aren’t the nobles supposed to decide among themselves?  That’s why we pay their taxes and work their land - so they’ll protect us from threats like this.   _They’re_ the ones that should take the fall.  They shouldn’t be trying to pass this off on their subjects.”

“Normally, I’d agree, as would the queen, I think,” Poe replied.  “But there’s only one unmarried noble lady in the Reach at the current time - Lady Asha of Endor.”

“Good.  Send her to marry him.  Leave the rest of us in peace.”

“Rey,” Poe said gently, “Lady Asha is _seven.”_

That shut her up more effectively than any other explanation.  “Oh,” she whispered.

“When all this started,” Poe continued on, “the Reach had plenty of eligible women.  But as soon as a pattern emerged, the lords and ladies of the Reach began arranging matches for their daughter as quickly as possible.  No one wants to lose their child - even if they must betroth their daughter while she’s still a toddler to save her.”

“Right,” Rey mumbled, thoroughly chastised.

Then, Poe perked up.  “You should enter the lottery, Rey,” he suggested.

Rey laughed in his face.  “And risk being eaten by a dragon?  Thanks, but no.”

“No, I’m serious,” Poe prodded.  “As an incentive, every girl that enters receives a purse of ten gold pieces.  Plus, the winner’s family receives a nobility title and a place in the queen’s court.”

For a moment, Rey went serious.  The things she could _do_ with ten gold pieces!  She could eat for nearly a year on money like that - longer, if she was frugal.  A year where she wouldn’t be beholden to Plutt, a full year of _freedom_ \- but at what cost?  The possibility of being married off and the guarantee of being eaten by a dragon?

It wasn’t worth it.  She may not have been bedecked in jewels, and she may not have eaten like a queen (or a Marquesa), but she had a steady income.  She had a livelihood that left her a much higher chance of survival than gambling with fate.

“No,” she told Poe.  “No, I don’t think so.”

Poe nodded in acquiescence.  Then, a look of realization washed over his face, and he glanced at Finn before looking back at her.  Finn stared at him curiously, paying attention to their conversation once more.  “Oh!   _Oh._  I get it.  I didn’t mean to presume.  So, you two are…?”

“No!” Rey exclaimed, even as Finn interrupted with a “yes!”.  Then, they glanced at each other.  “Yes,” Rey agreed, right as Finn changed his answer to “no”.  Rey turned to glare at him, and Finn shrugged, his dark face turning an even deeper shade with the force of his blush.  He muttered something about BB’s hooves being clean before ducking back below the partition.

“It’s complicated,” Rey told Poe.  They had never really discussed it, but Rey wouldn’t have been surprised if she and Finn married one day.  She couldn’t speak for Finn, but it had never been about love on her part.  It sounded like a sad, passionless thing to say - but Rey had never expected to marry for love.  She hadn’t even expected to marry at _all_ , at least, not until her parents returned for her.

But Rey had expected her parents to return years ago, while she was still a child, and she was slowly coming to terms with the fact that the day they came back for her might be a long way off.  Would it really be so bad to marry, to have someone to take back with her when they found her?  Maybe she didn’t hold the wild, passionate love for Finn that was sung about in all the ballads, but she _cared_.  Finn was her companion, her partner, and something deep inside of her told her that they should never be apart.  She wanted to build a life, and she liked the idea of sharing it with him in some way.  They completed each other, and they made each other better.

If that wasn’t something to base a marriage off of, she didn’t know what was.

“The simple answer is ‘not really’,” she finally told him, dropping the fourth and final horseshoe to the side to cool.  She’d make any final adjustments once they were cold enough to handle and she could measure them against BB’s hoof.

Poe nodded along.  “I’ll accept that,” he told her.  “I can understand complicated.  Still, I’d think about it if I were you - there’s a lot of good that can be done with ten gold pieces, especially in the right hands, and the chances of being picked are slim.  Word from the capitol is that we’ve already had almost a thousand entrants.”

 _A thousand entrants,_ Rey thought.   _Ten thousand gold pieces.  What a waste._  She would never understand how the nobility could afford to live in such excess.  “I’ll consider it,” she told Poe, just to placate him.  Truthfully, even one in a thousand was too much of a risk for her when it came to dragons, even for the reward being offered.

Thankfully, BB took better to putting the horseshoes _on_ than she did taking them _off_.  She seemed to understand on some level that Rey knew what she was doing, unlike the farrier who had handled her before, and stood still as Rey measured and filed and reshaped and nailed, complacent as Rey constantly picked her hoof up only to set it back down again.  Poe and Finn watched as she worked, ready to help hold the mare still if needed, but it was unnecessary.  By the time the first shoe was on and the nails filed down, Rey chased them off into the living quarters she had built in the barracks.  As she compared the third one against BB’s hoof, the scent of cooking meat began to waft through the air, overpowering even the smell of manure.

By the time all four horseshoes were on and all three horses were fed and watered, the stew cooking over the hearth was well on its way to done.  Rey’s stomach rumbled as she looked down at the broth, thick with vegetables and meat.  Poe grinned at her and handed her a meat pie from his pack before gesturing to a spot around the fire.

The three stayed up long past the sun had set, trading news and stories.  Finn told Rey’s favorite story, about how the Imperial Legion to the west was famed for riding horses with coats of pure white, and how they were so obsessed with keeping the beautiful fur that they began to breed the horses brother to sister, thus producing generations of beautiful horses that were dumber than rocks - like sweet, gentle, simple Storm.

Rey didn’t have many stories of her own - most of them, she realized, were far too grim to tell around a campfire with a couple of happy friends - but she had heard quite a few fairy tales, told to her by the kind, older scavengers when she was still young and hammering out dents in the armor Plutt received from his apprentices.  Rey told the one about how the Organas were secretly a family of witches and warlocks, who made the sun rise and set and the rains fall and the grasses grow; who waged a constant war with the forces of evil that sought to claim the kingdom and bring about unending night.  The story had been told to her in a serious manner which Rey tried to recreate for show - and Poe laughed so hard he nearly cried at the way she overdid it, with flourishes of her hands to indicate magic spells.

Poe was, by far, the one who told the most stories.  Rey had never left Jakku, and Finn knew little of the world other than what he had seen in the Reach and what he had been told before he deserted from the Imperial Legion, so both were eager to hear about the world beyond their ken.  They especially delighted in stories of the ridiculous things that the members of the nobility did - as they learned, Poe had come from humble means, and had worked his way up the ranks until he served the queen herself, so was able to find humor in their actions, as well.

Rey loved the ones about the absurd court fashions.  Apparently, feathers had suddenly come into style one year, and were worn everywhere.  Gluing tiny feathers to one’s eyelashes became especially popular - so popular than even the gentlemen were doing it, wearing feathers in masculine blacks and greys and reds.  However, one poor lady, who was well-known for her taste in clothes, was horrendously allergic to feathers, but not to be outdone, had followed the fashion despite her sniffling and coughing and red eyes and rough voice.  Others began to think it was a fashion statement as well, and began to rub their eyes to make them red or fake a cough.  Worst of all was when people actually began to show up to court sick, as if it was in vogue.  It became a competition of sorts, to see how sick they could become and still attend to the queen.  It all came to a head when six people fainted from fever during a ball one night.  In the end, the queen had to ban both feathers and influenza from the royal palace.

Rey would never understand the nobility, but at least she had a close friend - or maybe it was friends, now.  As the moon began to rise in the sky, Rey set up a pallet for Poe and sent Finn to bed.  As she left to find her own cot, she prayed she would see Poe again, as he was going back on the road tomorrow to deliver the news of the lottery to every fief in the reach.

Hopefully, the next time they met, it would be under better circumstances.

* * *

Finally, the first day of winter had arrived.  The day before had been madness - Finn and the other farmhands had scrambled to finish the harvest, and had completed it just in time.  The last wagon, loaded to the brim with grain, was leaving the fields just as the river finally crested the banks and spilled out onto the land.  Once it receded toward the end of the season, there would be work to do, but for now, it was time to celebrate.

All of the workers had crowded into the small tavern - the landowner had opened a tab at the bar, meaning free drinks for all the farmhands.  Finn was sipping his second mug of ale, enjoying the warmth it sent flooding through his body.  The desert never really cooled off, even in the winter, but the burn of alcohol was never unwelcome after a stressful day.

Nor was gossip, apparently.  One of his fellow workers burst in, brandishing a piece of parchment.  Judging by the sizable tear near the top of the paper, he had torn it from the town message board in his eagerness to bring it to the tavern.  “I have news,” he proclaimed with forced solemnity, though he was clearly excited to be the first one to know, and therefore the gatekeeper of information.

Most people went back to their drinks - until he spoke again.  “The lottery’s been concluded,” he said eagerly.  “The Marquess will have his bride.”

The lottery had been the source of chatter ever since Poe had passed through.  Most agreed that it was a good deal - ten gold pieces, for a one in a thousand chance of being eaten by a dragon?  Many faced odds far worse than that for less reward every day.  Finn even knew of several girls within the village that had submitted their own names.

“Who is it?”  Someone called out from the back of the room.

“Some woman from Jakku,” the man replied.

“A round of drinks for the poor girl from Jakku!  May being eaten by a dragon be as glorious a death as it sounds,” the bartender cried, and the sound of another barrel of ale being popped open was met by cheers from the room.

“What’s her name?” Finn shouted over the ruckus.  Tomorrow, he’d ride out to see Rey.  Maybe she’d know the girl who was chosen.

“Her name…”  The man paused for dramatic effect, and the room quieted as they listened for his answer.  Finn leaned forward, eager to know.

If only he knew how his next words would cause his heart to stop, then leap into his throat, racing a mile a minute.

“...is _Rey_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I've finally decided to jump into the Reylo trash bin. Greeting, brethren.
> 
> I love medieval AUs so much. This is one of two medieval Reylo AUs I've had bouncing around in my head for a while, but this is the more developed of the two, so I figured I'd work on this one! I'm in the interesting situation of having a definite beginning and a definite end, but the middle has a bit of that hand-wavey "relationship develops" bullshit going on right now. It'll hopefully become clearer as I continue writing.
> 
> Sorry there's no Kylo Ren in this chapter! This chapter was originally meant to combined with the second chapter, but it got _way_ too long. As a result, this chapter ended up very...exposition-y. Rey and Kylo will meet next chapter, I promise.
> 
> So no set update schedule for this for the time being - I'm going to try and churn out chapters as quick as I can, but setting dates stresses me out. Be assured: I'll try to pump out chapters as quickly as possible, so we can get to the fun parts of the story!
> 
> That being said: I hope you all enjoy this story, and I'm looking forward to getting more involved in the Reylo community and getting to know you all!


	2. Chosen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter title: "Rey and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day" or "DRAGONS, FUCK YEAH!".

That morning started like every other morning had for the past fourteen years.  It didn’t seem like the type of morning where everything would change, where the rug would suddenly be pulled out from under her feet.  There was nothing new in the way that the first light of the sun crept over the sand.  Rey still put her trousers on one leg at a time, and the water splashed onto her face from Falcon’s trough still did little to remove the layers of grime and sweat and dust from her skin.  The crust from last night’s bread still left her stomach rumbling as she swung into her horse’s saddle and rode out just as the sun crested the horizon.  As far as she knew, it would be a day just like any other.

If only she had known how everything could change in the blink of an eye.

Rey had headed out to Kelvin Ravine to scavenge that morning.  The plateaus above had hosted a number of battles several centuries before, but they had been nearly picked clean over the years.  Instead, it was the maze of canyons itself, woven between the ridges and mesas, that were Rey’s goal.  Many an uncautious knight had waged a duel on the rises above, only to take a careless step backwards or to the side and go tumbling to his death.

Though it wasn’t quite noon, her haul for the day was already looking good.  The crowning jewel of the small pile of armor was a helmet, painstakingly molded to look like the head of an eagle.  It even had feather imprints along the back.  There was a significant dent in it - though not so significant as the one in the skull she had pried out of the inside - but Rey was fairly sure she could hammer it out without disrupting the design _too_ much.

She and Falcon re-emerged from the system of canyons as the sun was highest in the sky.  Jakku, as with the other desert fiefs like Geonosis and Tatooine, observed a period of rest during the hottest part of the day.  Even the most tenacious of scavengers would pause in their work in search of shade and rest, and harsh masters like Plutt would allow their workers a break.  Even Rey herself found that the hour or so of downtime in the middle of the day, when it was far too hot to work efficiently, allowed her to be more productive during the time she actually spent scavenging.

That was why she was so surprised to see the rider cresting the nearest dune, heading south toward Niima Outpost, especially considering the rate he was moving at.  If he was out and about at this time of day, when everyone else was relaxing, he was either bearing dire news or a foreigner from outside the desert.  Most likely both, as every desert resident would wait to deliver even the worst of news until after the rest hour, and most foreigners chose to avoid the desert altogether if they could.  Rey shrunk further back against the rock she was sitting beside, hoping the shade would disguise her.

However, a pale horse against a dark rock was easily visible, especially when Falcon lifted his head to observe the dust cloud being kicked up by the horse’s hooves.  The rider wheeled his horse until it was facing Rey, heading toward her at a gallop.  Rey swore and snatched her staff from where she had fastened it to Falcon’s back.  Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good.

But she relaxed shortly after as the rider came closer, slowing his horse into a trot, and then eventually a walk.  It took her only a moment to recognize the bright orange spots on the skewbald mare, and Rey allowed her staff to drop to her side.

Finally, Poe pulled BB-8 to a full stop in front of Rey.  He tugged the scarf he had wrapped around his face and head away from his mouth, gasping for air.  Sweat ran from his temples and forehead, and Rey had to suppress a laugh at the burn adorning his skin anywhere the scarf hadn’t covered.

“How do you _live_ like this, Rey?” he panted.  “This is _awful_.”

“You poor, poor thing.”  Though her words were sympathetic, she was grinning the entire time.  “Poe, everyone takes a break at noon in the desert.  No one’s actually working; it’s too hot.  Look at BB!  You probably knocked two or three years off of her life riding her like that in this heat.”  Sweat ran down BB’s sides, too, and the poor mare was panting.  Rey hooked her fingers in her reins and pulled her forward gently.  “Let’s get you some water, poor girl.”

BB gladly gulped the water down even as Rey poured it into the circular tin.  She glanced down the neck of her canteen with a sigh.  Between Poe and BB, she was nearly out of water.  She’d have to head back early today; it was too dangerous to traverse the desert without a good supply of liquid.

“There’s snow in Coruscant right now,” Poe told her, flopping onto his back in the shade.  “ _Snow._  It’s supposed to be _winter_ , why is it so _hot?”_  Even through his complaints, he threw her a grin.

“Should have stayed in Coruscant, then,” she told him.  “It never really cools off in the desert.”  Rey had never even _seen_ snow before.

She spared him a glance.  “Why _aren’t_ you in Coruscant?  You’re a knight.  Don’t you have...I don’t know, knight-ly things to do?”

Though Poe’s grin stayed frozen his face, something in his eyes shifted suddenly, and Rey tensed.  He sat up and folded his legs beneath him, using his scarf to mop the remaining sweat from his face.  Rey waited patiently to hear his answer.

“We, um,” he paused for a second, before finishing his sentence in a rush.  “We had the drawing.  We know who the Marquess’ new bride will be.”

Rey was quiet for a few seconds - a moment of silence for the dragon’s latest sacrifice.  “I see,” she replied.  “Going to give her the news?”

Poe nodded and moved to stand.  His jaw worked, and he even opened his mouth once, as if to say something, but he stopped before he could make a sound.

“She’s from Jakku, isn’t she?” Rey sighed.  It made sense - everyone in Jakku lived poorly, and everyone faced starvation on a daily basis.  The sole exceptions were Plutt and the Lord of Jakku, but even they lived modest lives in comparison to the rich from other fiefs.  There had probably been dozens of girls from Jakku that had volunteered their names in exchange for the money, hoping against hope they wouldn’t be picked.

“You think it’s someone I know, don’t you?” she continued on.  “You don’t have to worry about telling me; I’m not close with anyone other than Finn.  I mean, I feel bad for her, but I don’t really know anyone else _personally_ , so - “

“ _Rey,”_ Poe cut her off.  “It’s _you_.”

Rey stopped mid-sentence.  “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand you.”

“It’s you,” he repeated.  “Your name was drawn in the lottery.  You are to be the Marquess’ new bride.”

It took her several moments to process his words - and _still_ , they didn’t make sense.  “I’m still confused - I mean, that’s not even _possible._ ”

“Improbable, but not impossible,” Poe said apologetically.  “I mean, we had almost three thousand names by the time we conducted the drawing.  What are the chances?  One in _three thousand_.”

When Rey didn’t speak, still staring at him in bewilderment, Poe began to blabber.  “I didn’t want to do this, I swear, but I thought you would prefer to hear it from a friend instead of from a stranger.  I tried to tell them; it was a private drawing, they could just pull another new name, but they said - “

“Poe.   _Shut.  Up._ ”  And as ordered, Poe’s mouth clamped shut, and he stared at her with wide, sorrowful eyes.

Except he _shouldn’t_ have been, because none of this should have been possible in the first place, and she actually needed him to _un_ shut up so he could explain _how the hell this had happened_.

“Poe,” she said, her calm tone belying her inner turmoil.  “Why was my name part of the drawing?”

“Because...you sent it in…?”  The realization dawned on his face.  “You didn’t put your name up for the lottery, did you?”  Rey shook her head.  “And you never got the purse?”

“I didn’t.”

“Then...how did…?”

“That’s what _I_ want to know.”

“I know we sent out the money,” Poe frowned, “which means that someone was paid for putting your name into the lottery.”

 _“Who?”_ she demanded.   _“Who_ was paid for _my_ sacrifice?”

Poe was already digging through his saddlebags, and within moments he had the parchment he was looking for in hand.  His eyes skimmed down the page.  “I don’t have any information on who the purse went to,” he told her, “But according to this, if your name was chosen, you specified that the lordship go to someone named…” he squinted his eyes at the paper.  “Unkar Plutt?”

“That _bastard_ ,” Rey seethed.  She would have kicked the rock she was leaning against if she didn’t know how much it would hurt - and damn it, Plutt probably would have _loved_ for her to hurt herself while she was raging against him.  “That _greedy pox-marked son of a whore!_  I can’t _believe_ he sold me out!”  She pressed her palms to her forehead - she needed to _think_ , and the fury in her was driving all other thoughts from her head.

Thankfully, Poe was there to tell her exactly what she needed to hear.

“Rey, listen to me,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder to pull her to face him.  “You don’t have to go through with it.  The lottery specifically asked for volunteers - and you never asked to be a part of it.  You didn’t get your money; you don’t get anything out of it.  No one expects you to go through with it.  You’re safe.”

Rey let out a shaky breath.  “I don’t?” she asked softly.

“You don’t.  I know you don’t think much of the nobility, but the queen is _good_.  She would never make you do this unless you went willingly, and unless you got the reward you deserve for volunteering.  I’ll go back to Coruscant; I’ll tell her what happened.  We’ll draw a new name.  It’ll be fine.”  He ran his hands from her shoulder to her elbows, up and down in a soothing motion.

Rey let out a soft sigh.  “Good.  Good,” she whispered.  “I’m glad.  You had me worried for a moment.”

But Poe was doing that thing again - where his mouth was still smiling, always smiling, but his eyes had gone distant, calculating, thoughtful instead of warm and comforting.  He may have wanted to console her, but…

“So what’s the catch?” she asked, pulling away from him.  “What are you not telling me?”

“Like I was saying,” he said nervously, “the queen is good.  She won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.  But... _someone_ must marry the Marquess, and soon.  They say his dragon has already been ranging away from his castle in Takodana.  If someone doesn’t go, who knows what Kylo Ren will do.  I want to return to the queen and tell her I’ve done everything I could to find the Marquess a suitable bride.”

He touched a hand to her shoulder, and Rey jerked away with even more force than before.  “So despite all that, you’re _still_ going to force me to marry him?” she hissed.

“ _Request_.  Not force.  Rey, all I’m asking is that you think of the girls like you - who were hungry enough that they were willing to risk this for the money so they can feed themselves, or the ones that were sold into it by someone else.  Or think about what might happen if _no one_ goes, the havoc that the dragon would wreak upon the kingdom.”

“ _Emotional appeals_ ,” Rey snarled.  “You’re asking me to sacrifice my life based on _emotional appeals?_  Do you think _they_ would have spared a thought for _me_ if they were chosen unjustly?  Even - even knowing everything what I could have been through, they wouldn’t have _cared._  They _never_ have!  Why should I give a damn about them?  About the same people who have stolen and hurt and cheated me all my life?  I _don’t!_ ”  Rey stalked away and sat heavily on a rock sticking up from the sand.  She buried her head in her hands, breathing heavily.

Poe spilled to his knees before her, though she refused to look at him.  “You’re right,” he whispered, repentant.  “I shouldn’t have asked.  It was unfair of me to do so, and I’m sorry.  You shouldn’t have to shoulder everyone’s burdens like that.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.”

When Rey still wouldn’t turn her gaze toward him, he sighed softly.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll make this right.  I’ll ride back to Coruscant as soon as it cools off.  We can hold another drawing as soon as I return, and I’ll ride out as soon as I have a new name.  It’ll all turn out; you’ll see.”

His comforting words had no effect, as Rey was barely listening.  The wheels in her head turned and turned and turned, for as much as she might have protested his emotional appeals, Rey was a bleeding heart through and through.  Even if they never showed her any kindness, it was always hard to ignore the desert rats that worked for Plutt.  There was no lost love between Plutt and herself - especially not now, when she was almost wishing he _would_ be eaten by the dragon - but the little orphans he employed?  They might as well have been her at that age.  She had _been_ them when she was that age.  Could she allow them to face the wrath of a dragon?

And what about the other girls?  The ones who were probably breathing a sigh of relief right now that their names hadn’t been chosen, that they had gambled and _won_.  She knew all too well how hard those wins were to come by for people like her, and how precious every one was.  But to find out it had been taken from her?  To breath that sigh of relief, only to find out that she had failed after all?  That was worse than being doomed from the start.

And what of the little noble ladies?  Though she held plenty of disdain for nobles, Rey didn’t have it in her to blame the ones that had been dragged away to marry the Marquess, only to be eaten by the dragon.  Her thoughts turned to the one unattached noble lady of the Reach, tiny little Lady Asha of Endor.  The noble family of Endor was known for being reclusive, and the image of the little girl, dragged away from her family and a house she had probably never once left, to be married to a man who routinely fed his wives to a monster tugged at her heart.

The fallout would be worse if no one went.  The entirety of the Reach - _hundreds_ of fiefs that dotted the southern part of the kingdom, full of starving girls and rich girls and clever girls and foolish girls, all believing they were safe, only to be leveled by the dragon’s wrath.  Just like Tuanul.

But Rey - Rey could do it.  She could go to Takodana, marry the Marquess, and save all of those girls - or, at least, she could save them for another year or so.  She wasn’t equipped with the skills that the noble ladies that had gone before her had been given.  She wasn’t well-read, nor did she know any courtly etiquette.  She didn’t know the best way to throw a ball or gain favor with the other nobles.  She hadn’t been given the skills to seduce a man, to make him desire her and then keep him interested, which seemed to be the most relevant piece of information when one was marrying a man prone to killing his wives.

There was one thing she did have, though, that the others lacked - Rey knew how to _survive_.  She had been faced with insurmountable odds before and lived to tell the tale.  She was quick and bright and adaptable, and had yet to meet an obstacle she could not find her way around.  Maybe she couldn’t do what the others could do - but she could persist, and give the Reach some peace of mind for a time.

And when the day came that the dragon would inevitably try to eat her?

Well, Rey had always been very good at _escaping._

“You - ” Rey cut herself off to swallow thickly, trying to force back the tears.  Even if Poe was giving her a choice, there really wasn’t much of a decision to be made.  For some people, with some choices, even with all the different options laid out before them, there was really only one path to take.  Rey was one of those people, and this was one of those decisions.  “You have to arrest Plutt,” she finally managed to get out.  “It’s - it’s not fair that he gets to exploit people like that.  He shouldn’t have been able to sell me off like that.”

“Of course,” Poe agreed readily, though he tilted his head curiously at her.  “The queen would not allow such deception under her reign.  I’ll go to Lord Tekka now and have him send his guard to capture him.  He’ll be facing heaving charges for fraud and lying to an official of the Crown.  Tax evasion, too, from what I’ve heard.  Really, whatever they can pin on him.”

“And Finn?” she whispered.  “The purse.  I want it to go to him.”

Finally, the realization of what she was asking for dawned on Poe.  He gently pulled her hands away from her face, and Rey realized her palms were damp.  “It will,” he whispered.  “Finn will get the money.  I’ll deliver it personally, to make sure he gets it.”

Crying was a terrible idea in the desert, where every drop of water was as precious as gold, but now that she had started, she couldn’t stop.  “And the lordship,” she gasped, her shoulders heaving.  “He’ll - he’ll be such a good lord.  He’s so kind, people will _love_ him, and he’ll love them back.  But he - he loves too much sometimes.  He’ll give too much.  You have to look after him, make sure he keeps his feet under him.   _Promise me._ ”

“I promise, I do.  I’ll keep him close, I’ll write to him all the time, I’ll even live with him while I’m not at court.  I’ll help him; don’t you worry.”

“And - and Falcon, don’t let them send him to a slaughterhouse.”  Her fingers were clinging to the fabric of his shirt, fisted at his shoulders, desperate for one solid thing in a world suddenly spinning out of control.  “I know he’s mean, and he bites and kicks, but he’s so _good_ , he’s so clever and loyal and he deserves so much _more - “_

“I’ll take care of him,” he swore.  “He can have the stall right next to BB, and they’ll be best friends.  Or I can send him to live with Finn, so he won’t miss his favorite chew toy.  I’ll take care of _everything.”_

With those words, Rey finally allowed herself to collapse into his arms and bury her face into his shoulder.  Poe only wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight to him, ignoring the tears slowly soaking into his shirt.

“I’ll do it,” she sobbed.  “I’ll do it.”

* * *

 

Five days.

Rey had been given five days to prepare before she was sent to her wedding.  Five days for the news to reach the Marquess, and for him to send his emissary to collect her.

Rey spent most of those five days with Finn and Poe.  Finn had burst into tears the moment he saw her - he had ridden out as soon as he heard the news - and wrapped her in the tightest embrace he could manage.

Rey, for her part, didn’t cry, not as Finn’s hug squeezed the air out of her, and not after.  After falling apart in Poe’s arms after first hearing the news, she refused to let the tears fall again.  Crying wouldn’t help her now - only action.  She refused to let these be the last days of her life...but they might have been the last time she would see Finn and Poe.  She wanted to cherish every moment of it.

So the three spent their time talking.  Poe shared more stories of the royal court to keep their minds off of what was to come.  Rey asked him once or twice about the Marquess, but Poe seemed to know about as much as they did.  It seemed that the man with a dragon under his control would remain a mystery until the day they finally met.

As the fifth day dawned, Rey allowed herself a last glance around her home as Finn and Poe packed the saddlebags.  She ran her hands along the stone walls, leaned her head against the wooden beams of the stalls, and even spared a glance toward the ashes in the hearth.  Even if it wasn’t much, this place was her _home_.  She had built most of it with her own two hands, working on it ever since she was young.  There were so many memories to this place - not all of them good, but all of them _hers_ , and she would likely never see it again.

She didn’t look back as the three rode out, too afraid of the tears that might fall.  It was out of sight before the sun had even risen above the horizon.

The letter that had come from the capitol the day before had given them very clear instructions. The Marquess was a secretive man, obviously, so everything had to be done exactly to his specifications - for his own protection, supposedly.  Rey was to go to the north edge of Kelvin Ravine and wait atop the highest plateau - alone.  The Marquess’ emissary would meet her there shortly after dawn, and the two would travel to Takodana together, where she would be married.

Rey, however, didn’t own a single article of white clothing.  Whites never truly stayed white in the desert, and most just allowed them to fade into a washed-out brown color.  She could not be a bride in white in the desert - instead, she chose the palest piece of clothing she owned, a dress in a dove grey color.  Even that wasn’t very bride-ly - her boots were her same, worn down, brown riding boots, laced all the way up to the knee.

But it didn’t matter to Rey - she wasn’t feeling very matrimonial in the first place.  If the Marquess was expecting a glowing, beautiful bride to show up on his doorstep, eager for marriage to one of the most powerful lords in the kingdom, he had another thing coming.

Poe and Finn hesitated at the top of the ridge.  Falcon’s lead line was already tied to Storm’s saddle, and Rey had already taken her few personal items from the saddlebags and stuffed them into her small pack.

“The sun is rising,” she reminded them softly.  “You need to leave.”

But instead of going, Finn swung off of Storms back and stepped forward to wrap her in his arms once more.  “I won’t leave you,” he said fiercely.  “I _won’t.”_

For a moment, Rey let herself live in that fantasy.  She’d get back on Falcon’s back, and the two of them would ride off.  They’d run away together; leave Jakku and settle down somewhere else.  Somewhere far from the Reach - maybe they’d head north to the Core and see the capitol, or to the beautiful lands to the east called the Slice.  Or maybe even further north, to the mountains of the Borderlands.   _Somewhere with snow would be nice,_ she thought.  They’d be happy there, and then…

Then what?  They’d hear stories of how the Reach had been destroyed by a rampaging dragon?  About how one selfish girl had fled instead of married a rich nobleman, how she was unwilling to make a sacrifice for the good of everyone?  Or about other wives, sacrificed to the Marquess and his dragon?

She couldn’t live like that.  The guilt would eat her alive.

Instead, she pulled back and pressed a kiss to his cheek.  “Goodbye, my friend,” she whispered.

“Rey.”  He gripped her elbows, as if trying to keep her grounded with him.  “You - be safe.  Don’t do anything stupid.  Please, _please_.  I don’t - I don’t want to hear stories of the Marquess needing another wife after this, all right?  I am _begging_ you - “

“ _Finn,”_ she said firmly.  She disentangled herself from his embrace, reluctant to leave his arms, but knowing she had to.  “Don’t worry,” she told him with a smile that was more confident that she felt.  “I’ll be fine.”

Finally, Finn stepped away.  “Be safe,” he repeated in little more than a whisper, before he pulled himself back into Storm’s saddle.

Rey watched them as they left, the horses making their way down the treacherous cliffside path before trotting through the dunes, away from the rising sun.  Finn was leaving his home too, today - he and Poe were traveling west, to where Finn’s new fief and a lordship awaited him.  They had spoken very little about it, as no one really wanted to acknowledge the elephant in the room of how he had gotten it.  He was going on to a better life - and Rey was happy for him.

Rey herself, however…

Rey watched them until their horses were little more than specks in the sand, then let out a deep sigh.  The Marquess’ emissary would arrive soon, though she didn’t know which direction he would arrive from.  The south, she assumed, as Takodana itself was to the south, but the only reliable path to the top of the plateau was on the north end.  Perhaps she would see them emerge from the canyons below and then climb the weaving road to the top.

But there was no telltale sign of dust rising from the weaving maze between the cliffs, no horse at the bottom of the ravine, despite the sun slowly rising in the sky.  Were they late?  Would Rey just be allowed to leave if they didn’t show up?

That was when she heard the sound of wingbeats, and Rey finally, finally, looked up.  The emissary had indeed approached from the south, just as she had initially expected.

What she had not expected was to be greeted by the creature that had haunted her every nightmare since she had first been told that she was marrying the Marquess.  She scrambled backwards toward the edge of the cliff as none other than the dragon of legend landed in the center of the plateau.

The dragon was far larger than she had ever given him credit for, larger than most of the houses in Niima Outpost.  Each of his long, pointed claws were as long as her forearm, though they were a charcoal grey color, instead of stained black with dried blood, like the stories told.

However, his scales were that black of deepest night, of the darkness between stars, of shadows given life.  The only exceptions were a pattern of scales in silver-chrome lining his eyes (brown, with whites and pupils, instead of a pure, dripping scarlet through and through) and scattered across his brow, almost like a king might wear a circlet, his symbol of divinity.  The smallest of the silver scales, the ones closest to his eyes, were no larger than her thumbnail, and sent the dawning light scattering its reflection across the rocky slopes.  The impressive set of horns growing from his head was offset by the soft looking, spear-shaped ears.

His wings, however, were truly something to be marveled at.  Even as he folded them and tucked them against his body, she could see he must have had a wingspan of at least thirty or forty feet.  How far could he fly with wings like those?  How _fast?_

“Greetings,” he rumbled, and Rey wasn’t sure if she was more surprised that the beast could actually _talk_ or that he had the manners to greet her properly.  His voice was a deep bass, and had a strange growling, rumbling quality to it that Rey assumed had something to do with the was a dragon’s vocal cords worked.

“I am Kylo Ren,” he continued on, barely acknowledging her presence from where he towered above her, let alone her strange mix of shock, awe, and terror.  “The dragon of legend of the south, Devourer of Knights, Maker of Widows, the Orphaner, and loyal servant to my lord and master, His Lordship, the Marquess of the Reach and Lord of Takodana.  I am the emissary, sent to collect his new bride.”

It was several moments before Rey regained her ability to speak, and several more before she was able to master her terror.  She would _not_ let this monster see her fear.  “Greetings, monster,” she said coldly.  “I am Rey of Jakku, former apprentice to the blacksmith Unkar Plutt of Niima Outpost, now betrothed to his Lordship, the Marquess.”

He was about as offended by her insult as she was impressed by his supposedly terrifying titles.  However, by the end of her sentence, he looked down at her, narrowing his eyes slightly.  For a moment, Rey wondered if he was sizing up to eat her - her hand pressed against her thigh, where she had strapped a small dagger this morning.  If he was going to try to devour her now, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

But it wasn’t the look of a predator staring down their next meal - instead, he simply took her in, like she had taken stock of him when he had first arrived.

All of a sudden, Rey was very aware of what she must look like to him.  All of the Marquess’ other brides had been noble ladies, no doubt gone to meet the Marquess’ emissary in full bridal attire, their dresses pure white and at the height of fashion and dripping with jewels.  Rey’s was a plain grey, without ornamentation.  Her skin was tanned and freckled from years under the desert sun, and her hands were covered in rough callouses from her work as a blacksmith.  Dozens of little scars littered her arms, from all the times she had burned herself while using the forge.

“A blacksmith,” Kylo Ren said flatly.  “They send the Marquess of the Reach, one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, a _blacksmith’s apprentice_ for his bride?”

Rey bristled at his tone, but Kylo Ren approached her, curling his body slowly around her like a serpent constricting his prey.  “I’m sorry he won’t have a pampered noblewoman for a wife,” Rey said sharply, “but I’m afraid he has a _spoiled pet_ who keeps chasing them all away.  There are no more available noblewomen in the Reach for him to marry.”  She moved to duck out of the circle his body was creating around her, but he shifted to block her way, leaving the only escape route right by his head, which Rey was reluctant to approach.

“But a _blacksmith_ from _Jakku?_  Now _that_ is ridiculous.  Instead of a merchant’s daughter, or the daughter of a noble from another region, they send a _blacksmith_.  A nobody from a fief of nothing.”

Rey snarled at his words.  ‘Impulsive’ was a word Finn used to describe her occasionally.  Rey preferred the term ‘excellent reaction time’.  Either way, she was usually able to avoid doing anything foolish based on a spur-of-the-moment instinct.

This was not one of those times.

“I,” she hissed, clenching her hand into a fist, “am not _nothing_.”  With all of the force in her small, emaciated body, she pulled back and _slammed_ her fist into his snout.

And _immediately_ regretted it.  Even as Kylo Ren reared back in shock, agony bloomed across Rey’s knuckles, and she let out a gasp of pain.  She wrapped her free hand around her wrist because _damn it_ , she knew that dragon’s scales were hard, but she hadn’t expected it to _hurt_ like that.  Little cuts welled blood across her knuckles from where she had cut herself against his scales, and she whimpered softly as she brushed her fingers across the back of her hand, hoping she hadn’t hurt the bones within.

Kylo Ren, for his part, looked unhurt, but had a look across his face that could only be described as _offended_.   _He_ had been the one insulting _her_ , and now _he_ was the one offended when she had fought back.

And then, Kylo Ren did the worst thing he could have done - he began to laugh.  She almost didn’t recognize it as such, with his strange dragon voice, a barking, growling noise, but the mirth behind it was entirely unmistakable.  Rey ground her teeth and gripped her wrist all the harder.

All of a sudden, he was at her level again, face-to-face.  “Oh, little one, you are a _delight_ ,” he told her, the amusement still evident in his voice.  “No, you are not nobody - not anymore.   _You_ ,” he purred, “are a _Marquesa_.”

He was on her before she knew what was happening, one large forepaw wrapping around her to drag her close to his chest before the other wrapped around her as well.  She let out a shriek as the first beat of his enormous, leathery wings nearly slammed her into the ground, but by the second, her feet were leaving the ground, and by the fourth they were airborne.

Rey’s hands wrapped around the paws squeezed around her midsection, even as her feet kicked out, desperate for the earth below that was quickly falling away from beneath her.  Kylo Ren lazily circled the plateau, now far, far below, before wheeling south.

Rey wriggled in his grasp, not sure if she was trying to get away or get comfortable anymore.  “If you struggle,” Kylo Ren called down from above as his wings propelled him through the air, “I _promise_ I will drop you.”

Rey froze in his paws, suddenly very aware of the fact that the earth was now more than a hundred feet below her.  One of his paws adjusted around her, even letting her go completely to settle more comfortably around her body, and Rey gasped, clinging desperately to the remaining claws holding onto her, scraping her fingers against the rough scales.  Kylo Ren laughed from from somewhere above her, and Rey glares up at what she could see of him, which was mostly his chest and the bottom of his neck.   _Ass._

If she wasn’t so damn _terrified_ , Rey might have enjoyed the ride.  As it was, she tried to pay attention to the flight.  Kylo Ren was able to move quickly in the air than anything she had ever seen, and the landscape below quickly began to change.  Niima Outpost fell behind them, their residents like ants, and the sandy desert slowly began to flatten out, transitioning into dry grasslands, then rolling plains, with a pair of rivers converging like a shining ribbon rolling over the land.  Every once in a while, they’d travel through a cloud, obscuring Rey’s vision before they emerged out the other side.

Within a couple of hours of taking off, the air around them began to grow cold.  Rey shivered slightly - her dress was made for the desert weather, but now, she was flying further and further into the cold south, the combination of the height they were flying at and the wind whipping at her face and clothes leaving her even colder than before.  Kylo Ren’s claws adjusted around her, and he drew her closer to his chest.  Almost instantly, Rey was left feeling warmer, the fire burning in the dragon’s belly warming him from the inside out.  Still, there was only so much he could do, and Rey was left shivering slightly as they moved further and further south.

The flight was a long one, and once her initial blind fright faded out into mild terror, she began to take stock of the land below her.  She tried to guess the fiefs as they flew along, but the further they got from Jakku, the fewer she able able to name, until she couldn’t tell one from the other.

What she _did_ notice was the first patches of snow appearing on the ground far below, and she chanced leaning just a little further over Kylo Ren’s paws to get a better look.  Soon, the snow patches transitioned to being mostly snow with patches of brown earth peeking through, to snow covering the ground entirely.

Though she hadn’t been able to name a single fief they flew over for more than an hour, Rey knew enough about Takodana to tell they were close.  The forests had been thick for the past dozen or so miles, the snow-covered trees stretching up to the sky and the canopy so dense that Rey often couldn’t see the ground below.  Then, the river flowing from the north was joined by another river, and then another, and another, until there was just as much water below as land, though most of it had frozen over in the chill.  Takodana was famed for its bridges spanning over the many rivers and lakes, connecting all the land together.

Except for one piece - and island, swiftly approaching, far out in the middle of one of the largest lakes she had seen so far.  The reservoir surrounding it was so large that the water the furthest from the land was still unfrozen, leaving a gap of running water between the ice sheets.  And there, on the island, was a castle, with terraces built into the rocky face of it, but the peak of the small mountain left bare.  There were no banners declaring it for one house or another, and just from that alone, Rey knew.

“Takodana Castle,” Kylo Ren said above her.  “Your new home.”

Rey felt her heart sink in her chest.  Her new home, indeed, and the death of all of her hopes.  There would be no running away from this castle.  It had no ramparts, no guards or walls that she could see, but her chances of running away had just plummeted.  She glanced down at the water below her, both at the ice and the water running just below it.

Maybe for someone else, there might have been a glimmer of hope, but there would be no escape for someone who didn’t know how to swim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fanart of the scene on Kelvin Ridge](http://firetigeraries.tumblr.com/post/145453729474/all-of-a-sudden-he-was-at-her-level-again) by the lovely [firetigeraries](http://firetigeraries.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Oh my god, I am _amazed_ by the amount of attention this fic has gotten so far! I mean, I don't know what's typical for the Reylo fandom, but at the time that I'm writing these comments, this fic already has _eight-seven_ kudos. _Eight-seven!_ After four days and a single chapter! I think, by any definition, that is _incredible_ , and I am so excited to take you all on this narrative journey! Thank you all for your lovely comments and support~ <3


	3. Wedded and Bedded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter title: "Well, that was awkward."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** This chapter contains a sexual scene with **dubious consent**. Although there is technically explicit sexual consent in this, it is coerced (as Rey feels she has no other choice) and unenthusiastic, which isn't really consent at all. If **dubcon** is a sensitive subject for you, then please read with care.

As soon as they touched down in the lowest courtyard of the castle and Kylo Ren released her from his terrifying claws, Rey dropped to her knees.  Her muscles were weak from both fear and from being carried through the air most of the day, the dragon’s paws squeezed firmly around her midsection.  Though she wanted nothing more than to put as much distance between herself and the monster who would in all likelihood devour her in the coming months, she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her crawl away from him.

Over the roar of her heart pounding in her eardrums, a new sound became apparent: a steady _tap tap tap_ of wood hitting stone.  She looked up to greet the person who stepped through the castle’s great double doors and strode across the terrace to greet her.

The woman was probably the _oldest_ person Rey had ever seen, though the people of Jakku weren’t known for their long lifespans, and the oldest person she had ever met before had been a woman of sixty-two.   _This_ woman had to be more than a hundred years old, Rey was sure, despite the fact that, with the aid of her cane, she moved with the speed and ease of a sprightly septuagenarian.  Sun-worn and wrinkled like a peach pit, she had a strict, no-nonsense face - but her brown eyes, made huge by a pair of thick spectacles, sparkled with wit, and when she took in Rey on her hands and knees, she spared her a sympathetic look.  Her bald head was protected from the cold by a cozy-looking grey knit cap.

Rey attempted to find her feet, wanting to show her respect for someone who had reached such an advanced age, but the woman waved her away.

Instead, her eyes turned to Kylo Ren and immediately hardened.  “You’ve terrorized the poor girl enough for one day.  You’ve had her since - what, dawn?  It’s nearly sunset, now.  You should go.”

“I really should - “

“Out!  Go!  You have things to do.”  Rey had no idea what kind of _things_ a dragon would need to do, but Maz waved her tiny, wrinkled hands at him in a shooing motion, as if scaring off a pesky bird instead of an enormous dragon.

To her immense surprise, Kylo Ren backed away from her.  The wind from his wings tousled her already mussed hair as he took off.  Rey looked back to watch him wheel away from the terrace, climbing upwards to the peak of the mountainous island.

Her eyes turned back to the woman with a newfound respect.  Whoever she was, she was clearly a force to be reckoned with if she could chase off a dragon without batting a lash.

The woman was observing her as well, looking her up and down without trying to disguise her stare.  “So, you’re the new one,” she stated after a moment.  “You’ll do.  Can you stand?”

Rey wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about being told she was _acceptable_ , but she wasn’t exactly satisfied with _anything_ about this situation.  Slowly, she got her feet underneath her once more and stood shakily to her full height.  Her legs were sore, but not so much that she couldn’t stand.  She looked down at the woman - now more than a full foot shorter than her - and nodded.

“Good,” she said decisively.  “Come along, we have much to do.”  Without so much as an actual greeting, the woman turned and marched back toward the castle with remarkable speed for someone so old.

After standing for a moment, too shocked to move, Rey jogged to catch up, slipping into the entryway right before the castle doors shut behind her.  “I’m Rey,” she introduced herself.  “And you are?”

“The Marquess of the Reach,” the woman said seriously.  When she spared a glance over her shoulder at Rey’s incredulous look, she laughed, but didn’t slow in her walk.  “I’m not,” she reassured her, though Rey wasn’t sure if she should be disappointed or not.  The woman had a sense of humor, at least.  “I am Maz Kanata, the head servant of Takodana Castle.  The _sole_ servant, in fact.  I do all the cooking, the cleaning, the organizing, the gardening.  If you need anything, you come to me - I’ve been doing this job for a _long_ time, and I do it well.”

The _sole_ servant?  In the _entire_ castle?  Rey was hardly an expert on castles, but she had always thought they staffed dozens of servants to take care of all of the different tasks that needed to be performed every day.  Even the Lord of Jakku, one of the poorest lords in the kingdom with one of the smallest homes, kept five servants to attend to his needs.  High Lords like the Marquess were supposed to employ _hundreds_ of workers across their sprawling estates to do everything from cooking to cleaning to serving the various lords and courtiers that made up their personal courts.

...Then again, Rey didn’t see any of the things she would have expected to see in a High Lord’s castle.  The estate was _hardly_ sprawling - though larger than any home she had ever been in, it was confined by the size of the island, and even then, it didn’t take up the whole of the island.  From what she had seen during Kylo Ren’s descent, the castle was built onto the west side of the island, stretching from just above the shoreline to about midway up the mountain.  The east side of the island was left to grow into a controlled wilderness, though the island was rocky enough that few large trees grew, leaving little more than scrub grass and bare stone and snow.

For that matter, even the castle itself was quiet.  Throughout their entire walk so far, Rey had yet to see another person, not even a lord of the Reach come to call on the Marquess.  The Great Hall was empty, and the halls were deserted as well.  Even when she strained her ears, Rey could hear nothing but their footsteps.  She was quickly beginning to suspect that she and Maz were the only people in the castle - and the Marquess, of course.

“I take it you know the Marquess well, then?” she queried.  “Since you say you’ve served him for so long…”

Maz barked out a short, harsh laugh.  “Know him well?  Ha!  Who do you think suckled him as an infant when his mother’s milk didn’t come?  Who do you think cleaned his scrapes when he fell and dried his tears when his parents couldn’t be there to do it for him?”

“...Is this another trick question, or - “

“ _Me.  I_ did all those things.  I’ve known him since he was a babe in arms.”

Rey considered her next question carefully.  She was reluctant to get onto Maz’s bad side - as she had said, Maz was the only one she could go to if she needed anything, and she didn’t want to give her any reason not to help her - so any disparaging remarks about the Marquess would probably be unwelcome, especially since she had cared for him since he was a boy.

“You must know much about him.”  When in doubt, flattery was never a bad choice, even if she could never be as eloquent as the many well-read noble ladies who had walked these halls before.  “I’m afraid news about our lord is hard to come by in the rest of the Reach.  Perhaps you could enlighten me on a few of the details?”

Maz shot her an amused glance over her shoulder.  “Perhaps you can ask your husband yourself when you meet him.”

Flattery quickly went out the window.  “Look, I only found out that I was even a _candidate_ to be married about a week ago.  I’ve been pulled from the only life I’ve ever known to be married to a man who’s not known for holding onto his wives for very long.  All I want is to know something, just a little something, about the man who’s about to be my husband.”

Though she didn’t look back at her this time, Maz’s voice was compassionate.  “I know,” she said softly.  “I am not unsympathetic.  But -”

“If you tell me that patience is a virtue, I am going to _lose it_.”

To her surprise, Maz laughed at her petulant comment.  “You’re straightforward.  I like that.  It will serve you well here.  I was _not_ going to tell you to be patient - though it _is_ a virtue.  But though I have known the Marquess since he was young, he is still my lord.  I will not betray his trust in any way.”

“You won’t even tell me his name?”

“He’ll tell you what he wants you to know in good time.”

Rey made a frustrated noise, but the time for questions was over - Maz had finally stopped in front of a heavy oak door and pushed it open.  Despite her frustration with the situation and Maz’s evasiveness, she stepped inside after her.

Unlike the rest of the castle, which was devoid of any meaningful ornamentation, this room was almost cozy.  A small bookshelf was pushed up against one wall, though only two of the five shelves had books.  The other three were filled with trinkets, though Rey could hardly name where any of them came from.  A cheery-looking fire burned in the hearth, and a plush throw rug covered the ground to protect her feet from the chill of the stone beneath.  The window to the outside faced the frozen lake, and in the distance, Rey could see the frosty forest on the other side of the water.

Maz sat behind the desk in the center of the room, and motioned for Rey to take one of the cushioned chairs just across from it.  She turned the paper in the center of the desk so it was facing Rey and pushed it toward her.  “You need to sign this.”  She plucked a feather quill and an inkwell from one of the desk’s drawers and passed them to Rey as well.  “You can read?  Write?”

“A little,” Rey admitted.  There weren’t many books in Jakku, but she had learned the basics of her letters and numbers.  Truthfully, both had come rather naturally to her, but Rey had always prided herself as a quick study.  She never delved too deeply, though, partly due to a lack of time, partly due to a fear of the other scavengers - any who seemed to excel too much in any subject were quickly torn down by their jealous brethren.

But the words came back quickly to her as she picked up the document and scanned through it.  There wasn’t much to it - only a few lines of writing on the entire paper - but the meaning was clear.

“A marriage certificate?”  She looked up at Maz, who nodded.  “Shouldn’t we have - I don’t know, a ceremony?  Witnesses?  An officiant?”  When she had envisioned her wedding day, she had never imagined it would be like _this_.

“His Lordship is very private, and prefers to keep his castle clear of unnecessary visitors, so there will be no ceremony,” Maz said, not unkindly.  “I will be your witness, and when the document has been signed by all parties, it will be sent to a magistrate in Coruscant, who will approve it.”

 _All parties._  Rey looked sharply down at the document, at twin lines where their names would be signed.  Sadly enough, both lines were blank - leaving her no hint as to her husband’s name.  “I assume His Lordship will not be joining us?” she guessed.  He hadn’t revealed himself yet - why should he bother to show up to his own wedding?  It wasn’t like he hadn’t already done this six times before.

“The Marquess is a busy man,” Maz evaded.  “I’ll bring it up to him later tonight, and he’ll sign it when he has the time.”

Rey’s stared down at the thick parchment and the two blank lines.  With a heavy heart, she reached for the offered quill and dipped it into the inkpot.

Three letters.

Three letters was all it took to sign her life away to a man she didn’t even know.

Silently, she handed the paper back to Maz, who sprinkled a fine layer of sand over her name to dry the ink.  Once she was sure the single word wouldn’t run off the page, she set it aside.

“Good,” she nodded once.  “That’s done with.  Welcome to Takodana, my lady Marquesa of the Reach.  Now, if you’ll come with me, we have much to do.  After all…”

And then, Maz said the words that Rey had heard at least a dozen times before, repeated by elderly matrons guiding young women on the day of their wedding.  It was always said with a playful air, as if they were letting them in on a joyous, happy secret; a wondrous thing they were finally allowed to experience.

But when Maz said it, she was completely serious, and her words had a gravitas to it that the phrase had never been given before.  For a moment, Rey wondered if it was only because they were directed at _her_ now, instead of being overheard during a moment of joy.  The look on Maz’s face, however, silenced any doubts she had about the matter.

“...We must prepare you for your _wedding night_.”

* * *

 The first thing Maz did after Rey’s apparent wedding was feed her, for which Rey was immensely grateful.  “My apologies for the simplicity,” she said as she led her down into the kitchens, “but I figured you wouldn’t want anything too heavy tonight.”

 _Simple_ was not the word Rey would have used to describe the meal.  The stew Maz served her was thick with turnips, carrots, onions, and barley, and the beef within was so tender it practically melted her mouth.  The rolls she served her were still warm and buttery, and she doubted that even a single grain of sand had been added to the flour.  There was even cold water, a luxury in Jakku, with lake-cut ice so freezing it made her teeth hurt as she guzzled it down.  She debated asking for seconds - but stopped just before she could open her mouth.  There would be more later - if she lasted the night.  Her worry made the food turn to ashes in her mouth, but she swallowed down the food already in front of her.  It wouldn’t do to waste it.

As soon as she was done, Maz led her away once more, up the stairs and into a small room with a bathing tub in the middle.  It was already filled with steaming water, and Rey luxuriated in the burn as she dipped her hand into it.  Maz was quick to strip her down and all but toss her into the bathtub, and Rey gave an undignified shriek as the water sloshed over the edge of the tub.

“Hush, you’re fine,” Maz scolded her, even as she fished one of Rey’s arms out of the water and began to scrub.

By the time Maz had finished cleaning the now thoroughly disgruntled Rey, the water had gone cold and had turned a grey-brown color, while Rey’s skin was a shade of peachy-pink she didn’t think she had ever seen before, though she wasn’t sure whether that was due to the thorough cleansing making her skin redder than it actually was or because she had never seen herself devoid of dirt before.

Finally, Maz drained the dirty water and poured more into the tub, hot once more.  She added a few drops of scented oil from a bottle she had set to the side, and the subtle scent of roses began to emanate from the water.  “Take your time,” Maz told her as she left her to herself.  “Would you like something to drink while you soak?  Water?  Tea?  Alcohol?”

Rey was half-tempted to ask for some sort of spirit, but rejected the idea.  When she met the Marquess - _if_ she met the Marquess, which she was beginning to doubt more and more as the evening wore on - she wanted to remember it unfettered by inebriation.  “Tea would be nice, please.”

“What kind would you like?”

Rey had barely even known that there were different kinds of tea - she had only received a mug once at a tavern she and Finn had visited, and that had been spiked with a healthy dose of rum.  “Surprise me,” she said instead of sounding foolish.

Rey sat in the bathwater for a long, long time.  She watched as her fingers slowly wrinkled, as her skin turned an even deeper pink from the heat.  She waited until the water cooled once more and her mug of tea had long since been drained before she stood.  Rivulets ran down her body to join the water below as she squeezed her hair out and reached for the fluffy towel Maz had left out for her.  She paused to inspect her stomach - not a single cut or bruise around her midsection, despite being carried in by a monster’s sharp claws all day.  She was glad of that, at least.

Maz was waiting for her when she emerged from the room.  Once more, she led her down the hallways, now darkened with the shadows of night and lit up by the occasional torch.  Finally, she pulled open a door to a room deep in the castle.  “Your chambers,” she told her, and Rey stepped inside.

It was probably one of the most lived-in rooms in the castle Rey had seen so far.  Though there was no hearth, the room was a comfortable temperature, and candles flickered merrily on a stand in one corner.  A dresser was pushed up against one wall, with a table and a mirror right next to it, and a little stool right nearby.  A pair of bookshelves lined either side of the room, and a dressing screen was pushed into one corner.  A second door was on the other side of the room, a mirror to the one she had walked through, but Rey had no clue what it could lead to.  In the middle was the bed, a huge piece of furniture with an elegant canopy, made of mahogany and draped all in plush, velvety reds with gold and black embroideries.  A trunk sat at its foot, as well as nightstands on either side.

Rey took the piece of fabric Maz shoved into her hands with little protest, and even walked behind the dressing screen at her insistence, too mesmerized by the room.  It was hardly the multi-room apartments Rey had heard many noble ladies kept - even the room itself wasn’t all that large - but they were cozy and comfortable - in other words, perfect for someone as small and discreet as Rey.

The nightgown Maz had handed her was comfortable too, a soft, cotton garment that fell below her knees.  A baby blue ribbon was laced around the collar to hold it closed, and tied in a cute little bow in the front.

She walked out from behind the dressing screen to compliment Maz on her good taste - but stopped.  “What are you doing?” she asked, more curious than worried.

Maz had pulled the candelabra from the stand, and stood with the only source of light in her hands.  She turned toward Rey.  “Oh, good,” she said.  “It fits.  We can see about taking your measurements tomorrow, if you’d like - find you some clothes that are more suited to the weather.  But for now, you should sleep.”

“Sleep?”

“Yes.  The Marquess seemed quite busy when I checked on him.  He’ll be along later in the night.”

Slowly, Rey climbed into the bed, and resisted a happy sigh when the feather mattress yielded beneath her weight, but not enough to make her feel like she was drowning.  “Then...I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Yes,” Maz agreed as she exited the room.  “See you in the morning.”

As soon as she pulled the door shut behind her, the room was plunged into darkness.  She had barely noticed before, but the room didn’t have a single window, so without the light of the candles, she could see nothing but blackness.  Rey shifted restlessly - even back in Jakku, she was used to the starlight filtering into the old barracks, but it was impossible to see in here.

Perhaps her husband would bring in a few candles when he came to her.  Rey snorted.  Yeah, right.  The Marquess had yet to show his face - he didn’t even attend his own wedding.  Why should he go to his wedding night?  In all likelihood, Rey would spend the night alone in this gorgeous bed, which was just fine by her.  She turned onto her side and burrowed deeper under the covers, trying her best to fall asleep.

Rey had nearly dozed off when a quiet sound jerked her out of her restful state.  She froze, not breathing as she listened for whatever had woken her.

Then, a second soft _click_ echoed through the room, as well as a quiet sigh, from the direction of the door she hadn’t come through.  Rey relaxed slightly, and then stiffened once more once the realization washed over her - _this_ must be the mysterious Marquess of the Reach, finally here to see her on the night of their wedding.

She felt like she should say something - introduce herself, or ask his name, or greet him, or even yell at him for being absent all day, _anything_ , really - but her voice froze in her throat.  What was she supposed to say to him?  She couldn’t even _see_ him in the darkness.  Should she ask for a candle?

In the end, she resolved to stay quiet - if he thought she was going to simper and genuflect to him, he had another thing coming.   _He_ was going to have to win _her_ over, not the other way around - and whoever spoke first would determine who would have to curry favor from the other.  If this was a battle of wills, she would _not_ lose.

But he didn’t seem eager to speak, at all - he shuffled about the room, doing who knew what.  Rey didn’t even know how he knew the room well enough to move through it without running into anything in the blackness.  She shifted onto her back, just so the noise of the covers would alert him to her presence and hopefully prompt a conversation.  But besides a slight pause in his movements, the Marquess continued on, the whisper of his clothing and the shuffle of his feet across the rug the only hint to his presence.

Then, Rey felt the other side of the bed sink slightly as he sat on the edge.  There was a whisper of cloth, and then something brushed against her elbow through the covers.  Rey jumped, but then relaxed as she realized it was his hand, searching for her in the dark.  He withdrew slightly, and then his hand returned, skimming up from her elbow up to her shoulder, where the edge of the blanket was.  He pulled the sheets down slowly, as if to slowly take in the sight of his new bride, even though Rey knew that was impossible in the darkness.

Right.  They were married now - of course he would expect to consummate their marriage.  It was their wedding night, after all.  Rey settled back further into her pillows.  She had expected this when she agreed to marry the Marquess, and she wouldn’t allow herself fear him - or this.  Every married couple in the kingdom did this, and quite a few unmarried ones, too.  Nobles married people they didn’t know all the time, consummated their marriages to people they had only just met at the altar.  Rey could do this, too.

When the comforter slipped past her feet, the Marquess returned to her, his hand finding her ankle to orient himself to her body once more.  Slowly, it slid upwards, dragging along the skin of her calf until he encountered the hem of her nightgown.  He toyed with it for just a moment, then stopped.  Rey could feel his eyes on her, her skin prickling under his gaze as he hesitated, waiting for some sort of cue.

 _He’s waiting for permission_ , some part of her realized.  “Yes,” she whispered, barely audible, because she was his wife, and that was what she was supposed to say.

Her answer apparently satisfied him, because his hand continued its upward journey, taking the edge of the nightgown with it.  His other hand hooked under her thigh to encourage her to lift her hips so he could slide the fabric underneath them.

Then, he stopped once more, and Rey nearly rolled her eyes.   _What’s the matter_ this _time?_  He carefully folded the gathered bottom half of the nightgown and set the neat pile of fabric on her stomach, meticulous and orderly.   _All right, very weird._

His hand found one knee, and he gently shifted it outwards before repeating his actions with her second knee.  Rey felt him move once more, to kneel between her now-spread knees.

His touch skirted up her inner thigh this time, and Rey stiffened the higher his hand trailed.  Finally, his broad palm worked its way between her legs to rest against her sex.  A single finger pressed against her to find her dry, and Rey fisted a hand into the top sheet of the mattress.

To her surprise, he withdrew then, his hands leaving her entirely, though he remained kneeling.  She heard a small, wet sound - _his mouth_ , she realized - before two of his fingers, slightly moistened, returned between her thighs, dragging up and down her slit.

When those same fingers found the nub at the apex of her sex, pressing against it, Rey jumped slightly.  She made a soft noise of surprise, but quickly slapped her hand over her mouth.  His fingers started up a slow rhythm, gentle little circles drawn over her clit.

It...wasn’t exactly what Rey had thought it would be like.  Sex was only talked about as either an act of extreme pleasure or something wives had to do for their husbands, despite the discomfort it might bring them.  She hadn’t really understood how it could be described so differently by different people.

This wasn’t really like either description.  She didn’t know how she would describe the feeling slowly building in her - a tingling anticipation, maybe? - but she could only feel how her body reacted, the way her legs shook from something that wasn’t entirely anxiety anymore, the way she would give an involuntary jerk every time he pressed just a little too hard against her, how some part of her watched to arch her back to press herself more firmly into his touch.

Once more, he dragged his fingers through her folds, and pulled back, satisfied with the newfound slickness he found there.  Rey nearly kicked him - she had been _enjoying_ that; why would he just _stop?_

But then one hand settled onto the bed right beside her waist, leaving a smear of wetness across her hip when his fingers brushed over it.  Something that was definitely _not_ his fingers pressed against her then, and Rey took a deep breath before he pushed into her.

It wasn’t a _pain,_ per se; no feeling of tearing or ripping or bleeding.  It was more of a twinge than anything, a stretch that was more uncomfortable than an agony that would lead to a bed of blood.  His other hand pressed into the mattress next to her head once he was fully seated within her.

The rolling of his hips against hers as he pressed into her again and again wasn’t unpleasant, either, once she was used to the discomfort of his invasion.  Not quite enjoyable, like his fingers pressed against her were, but the fullness left her with a certain satisfaction.  Some part of her wanted to stretch her hands out to touch him, half out of curiosity about his body, half out of a desire for contact.  He hadn’t touched much of her other than her sex, and didn’t seem inclined to do so, though she couldn’t help but feel like this would be so much _better_ if he would.

If she could drag her nails down his back.

If she could run her fingers through his hair.

If she could slide her palms up his chest, or drop little kisses onto his neck.

Instead, she fisted her hands into the bedding below her.

She could tell when he found his release by the way his hips stuttered up against hers.  He exhaled shakily, the breeze of his breath tickling the little hairs sticking to her face.  When he pulled out, Rey had to suppress the little shiver that raced down her spine.  His hand patted her hip twice, as if he was dismounting a horse instead of his _wife_.  He tugged her folded nightgown back over her legs with far less attention this time and reached down to throw the blankets over her carelessly before rolling onto the other side of the bed, pushing himself to the edge and settling onto his side to avoid touching her.  His breathing slowed quickly, and he was, for all intents and purposes, asleep in seconds.

 _That_ was when Rey realized what exactly had just happened.  To him, this wasn’t an act of passion, but a duty to be completed as quickly and efficiently as possible.  Perhaps he had touched her to ease his way, but she doubted it was to prevent her pain - and if it was, it was only because her pain would have been _inconvenient_ for him.

To him, she was just one more woman in a long line - not the first, and no doubt not the last.   _Her_ feelings didn’t matter.  Who _cared_ if it was her first marriage, her first time in bed with a man?   _He_ certainly didn’t - she was only the seventh marriage, and there would be more just like it to come.  Why waste the effort on making her comfortable, when he would only have to repeat the process again in a few months?

Rey rolled onto her side, her back facing him as she gritted her teeth.  In that moment, she had never hated anyone so much.  She had never hated anyone so much in her entire _life_.

It took a long, long time for Rey to fall asleep after that.  Her _husband_ (oh, how she hated the word, now) didn’t move around in his sleep, but the deep breathing right beside her, even if it was calm and even, did nothing to settle her.  It only reminded her of of exactly who was sleeping beside her.

Rey’s tears were silent - she had perfected the art of crying quietly many years ago - but she tried her best to pretend that the dampness wasn’t soaking into her pillows.  She was _Rey_ , and she never cried.  She had no reason to, for there was no obstacle she could not overcome.

No reason to cry, no obstacle she was unable to overcome - until today.

Rey wasn’t sure exactly when she had fallen asleep.  All she knew was that she was awoken by Maz, returning with the candelabra and a “good morning”.  Rey stared at her unseeingly for a moment, then turned onto her other side.

She was alone in her bed.  The only evidence her husband had left of his presence was a slight indent on the pillow and the sticky feeling between her thighs.

Rey wasn’t even surprised any more.  The only emotion left to her was resignation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha so does everyone hate me yet?
> 
> For those of you disappointed by the smut - _good_. It was specifically written to be awkward and unsatisfying and kind of boring. Pretty much Rey's experience through the whole thing, too. Rest assured, for those of you that only showed up for the "M" rating, there _will_ be smut in this that is actually written to be sexy - it'll just take place in later chapters.
> 
> In other news, I ran out of non-ridiculous words for genitals _so_ fast when I was writing this. If anyone has a list reference, please link me. I know there are a few out there. I feel like I should also say that, when I can't figure out a scene-appropriate word for something, I'll just substitute in a completely ridiculous word so I can keep writing and just edit it later. If you come across any time I refer to Rey's vajayjay as something insane like a moist garden of womanly pleasure, let me know so I can edit it to be something that better fits the mood. I think I caught them all, but you never know.
> 
> Also, once more, I am _amazed_ by the amount of attention this fic has been getting - another hundred kudos have been added to the fic since my last chapter, as well as _tons_ of comments. You are all incredible, and I love you~


	4. Married Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternative chapter title: "The Red After-Wedding".

When she had first agreed to go to Takodana and marry the Marquess, Rey hadn’t known what she would face.  Would she be tossed into a High Lord’s court, full of political intrigue and scandal?  Or thrown into the dungeon to await her husband’s and his dragon’s pleasure?  Or perhaps she would spend her days hiding in the castle, trying to hide from a hungry Kylo Ren on the prowl.

What she hadn’t expected was for her days to be mind-numbingly, soul-suckingly _boring_.

For the very first time in her life, Rey didn’t have to fight to survive.  She didn’t have to find old armor to trade for food, working in the blazing heat from sunup to sundown - or longer, until after the evening chill of the desert had set in, if she needed material to patch her clothes or fix her old barracks.

Everything she could ever need was provided for her.  Maz ensured that she ate three meals a day, and even regularly encouraged her to sit down and have a smaller, lighter meal with tea in the afternoon.  In fact, Rey actually ate so well those first few days, positive the food would be ripped away from her at any moment, and if she was going to die, then _damn it_ , she was going to die well-fed, that she quickly became sick.  A combination of the rich flavors and an overabundance of food meant that Rey spent many a morning emptying the contents of her stomach into a bucket.  The ever-helpful Maz quickly adjusted her meals accordingly, switching to a simpler fare and limiting Rey’s food intake, much to Rey’s disappointment, until her stomach adjusted.

“Will His Lordship mind?” Rey asked her one day as she bit into a roll slathered with honey butter.  Apples had been baked into the bread, and the light dusting of cinnamon and nutmeg on top tingled across her tongue pleasantly.  “I’m sure he’s used to his meals being much...fancier.”  On her fourth day in Takodana Castle, Maz had cooked the fattest pheasant Rey had ever seen, a rich plum sauce covering its crispy, golden skin and quail’s eggs lining the edge of the plate.  The tail feathers had been pinned back on after the bird had been cooked, making the dish both beautiful as well as delicious.  That had been the meal that had first triggered her illness - but surely her husband must have been used to eating like that every day.

“His Lordship will eat what you eat,” Maz told her.  “You’re the one with the sensitive stomach.  He can survive on simpler fare until you’re ready to eat richer foods.  If he has a problem with it, he can come down to the kitchens and make his _own_ supper.”

Rey had to hide a chuckle behind her hand at that.

It wasn’t just food that was provided for her.  As promised, Maz took her measurements the day after she arrived and placed an order with a tailor in Coruscant for a number of winter clothes to be made for Rey.  The first set of clothing arrived in just over a week, and Maz told her she could order clothing in whatever style she liked.  Now that the tailor had her measurements on file - though Rey quickly realized they would need to be updated soon, as she was putting on weight now that she was eating regularly - she could simply send a letter with her name and the money, as well as what she wanted, and it would be sent via messenger in a matter of a few days.  If there was one thing she could say for being a noble, it was that as soon as her title was attached to anything, people really _moved_ to get her what she wanted.

She was even given an allowance each month to do with what she liked.  Rey’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when Maz told her the sum - if she had thought the purse for entering her name in the lottery was huge, then this was _ridiculous_.  She wasn’t sure if it was Maz playing a trick on her or the Marquess playing a trick on her through his servant, but he _couldn’t_ have _really_ meant she got that much money - let alone every _month_ for whatever she wanted!

Some part of her was tempted to place an order for something frivolous and useless - like a marble statue of herself, or maybe even something less useless but equally expensive, like chains capable of binding and imprisoning something about the size of, oh, say, a dragon - but what would she do if they actually _showed up_ on her doorstep?  She had no used for statues of herself, and if she wasn’t already in danger, then _surely_ blatant plans to capture Kylo Ren do it.

In the end, she left the supposed allowance alone.  Real or not, there was nothing she needed that wasn’t already provided for her.  If she was cold at night, then she found Maz would leave extra blankets on her side of the bed by nightfall.  If she was hungry, there were always leftovers from meals to tide her over until the next one, which was always in sight.

And if she was lonely?  Well, there really wasn’t much she could do about that.

Unsurprisingly, Rey had yet to catch sight of her husband.  During the daytime, he locked himself away in the East Wing of the castle, too busy keeping Takodana and the entirety of the Reach running.  He didn’t even take meals with her, too engrossed in the day-to-day goings-on of his part of the kingdom.  Instead, Maz brought them to him either before or after Rey ate her own supper.  The only time she was in his presence was long after the sun had set, when he crawled into bed beside her.

With the sole exception of that first night, he never touched her - and when Rey said he didn’t touch her, she meant that he didn’t touch her _at all_.  Not only were they not, ahem, _intimate_ , but he seemed to be avoiding any and all contact with her.  When he slept next to her, he crowded himself to the edge of the bed, even turning on his side to minimize the amount of space he took up.  When he slipped under the covers, he was careful to avoid her as he settled in.

They didn’t even speak - Rey hadn’t said a single word to him, beyond her affirmation of their marriage that first night.  The only time they spent together was in the darkest hours of night, when he slept beside her.  He was usually gone before Rey woke up - though on a particularly restless night, she had heard him leave the bed and exit the room, not that it did her much good, as the day hadn’t even begun to dawn, and she didn’t get even the slightest glimpse of the man who she now had to call “husband”.

Still, in some small way, she came to know him.  Maz was incredibly tight-lipped about the Marquess, despite having known him for all of his life.  Even questions about things as innocuous as his name or age were met with a simple answer: “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”  Which, of course, wasn’t going to happen.  A fortnight into a marriage to a man she quickly grew to despise, and they hadn’t spoken two words to each other.  Why should they change that now?

But despite herself, she managed to pick up some details from time to time - like that he suffered from the occasional nightmare.  She could hear him some nights, though he never cried out.  He’d twitch slightly, his breathing elevated, before jerking awake with a sharp intake of air.  He’d freeze then, as if afraid someone (her) had noticed his weakness - before slipping out from between the sheets and leaving the room, hours before he usually did.

Rey did her best to resent this.   _She_ was the one slated to die, why was _he_ haunted by bad dreams?

But it was the little things that were the strangest - small, intimate things that she knew about someone who was more or less a stranger, things she should have only known about someone she _really_ knew, like that he preferred to sleep on his back.  Sometimes, half-asleep, he’d turn over from his spot on his side and flip onto his back before remembering someone was in the other half of the bed.  He’d jump awake and curl up against the edge of the mattress again, radiating discomfort.

Rey chose to think of it as disgust - he was so repulsed by the the thought of being too close to her he’d pull away, despite his body’s natural instincts to make himself comfortable.  It was easier that way - far simpler to hate someone that hated her.

But some other part of her wondered if it was _awkwardness_ that was between them.  Maybe he was as nervous and uneasy about this situation as she was.

Rey roughly pushed that little voice away.  She preferred to think of him as she had since their wedding night - cruel and selfish and uncaring.  She refused to think of the man who was sure to order her death as anything less than a monster.

But really, the worst part of life in Takodana Castle was the _boredom_.  Without a need to earn her livelihood, Rey took to shadowing Maz.  She trailed after her as she followed her from room to room around the castle.  First down to the kitchens to make breakfast, then to clean out the unlit hearths, then outside to an area that was _supposedly_ the gardens (though to Rey, it looked like every other snowy terrace in Takodana, if slightly larger), and on and on and on.

Maz put up with her for about three days before she chased her off.  “I can’t get anything done without tripping over you!” she scolded.  “You’re a Marquesa now.  Find something useful to do!”

“But what is a Marquesa even supposed to _do?_ ”

“Whatever she pleases,” Maz responded, before leaving her alone in the room.

As it turned out, there were a great many things that Marquesas and other noblewomen were _supposed_ to do - but none were available to Rey in her situation.  There was no need the manage the servants of the household, as Maz was the only one.  She couldn’t hold court, as there were never any visiting nobles or ladies-in-waiting to attend to her.  She couldn’t visit the courts of the other nobles of the Reach, as she could not leave the island - although it had never been explicitly forbidden, Rey assumed she would not be allowed to go.  She couldn’t spend time with her husband, not even if she had wanted to, which she didn’t.

Even a lady’s leisure activities were impossible.  There was no reason to embroider anything, no festivals to help decorate banners for, no charities or orphanages to donate the fruits of her labor to.  (Why did orphans even need embroidered blankets?  Rey would have been happy with just a heavy wool blanket to get her through the freezing desert nights in her childhood, even if it was ratty and threadbare.  Nobles were ridiculous.)  And besides, Rey’s needlework was absolute _shit_.  Whenever she had needed to patch her clothing, she had fought with the needle and cloth, pricking her fingers again and again until Finn heaved a deep sigh and took the fabric from her, doing the patch job himself.

(And oh, whenever she thought of that, it made the ache for her friend grow all the more keen.  How she wished he was here with her!  Perhaps the days wouldn’t feel half so lonely - but she doubted her husband would allow a strange man into his home to spend time with his wife, regardless of his feelings toward her.)

Instead, Rey took to exploring the island of Takodana Castle.  Her ability to tour the castle was limited.  The three doors which led into the East Wing, where her husband spent his days, were locked every time Rey checked them - no doubt another measure put in place by the man she had married to keep them apart.

Thankfully, it was the Great Hall and the West Wing which led out into many of the terraces that decorated the castle, but Rey was reluctant to even explore those due to the roadblock known as Kylo Ren.  She had once wondered how a dragon was supposed to spend its days.  Did they terrorize villages?  Kidnaps princesses and demand ransoms?  Guard their hoards?  Hunt the local fauna into extinction?

As it turned out, he didn’t do much at all.  He spent most of his days sprawled out across some terrace or another like the great, lazy beast he was.  He followed the sun as it moved across the sky, flying or simply hopping or crawling from one terrace to the next to ensure the light always warmed his dark scales.

Rey rarely ventured out onto the balconies where he lay.  She had done so only once, on one of her early days, to find him stretched out, turned slightly onto his side to allow the sun to reach his belly.  A dragon produced more heat than a human, and he had been laying out long enough that the snow and ice had melted in a small circle that stretched out several feet around him.

The silver scales around his eyes reflected the dim winter light onto the stone surrounding him, and the little glimmers shifted every time he moved his head.  It was not the little lights that transfixed her though, but the many, many rows of long, sharp teeth that lined his mouth that caught her attention as he yawned.

The reminder of her impending doom was too much for Rey, and she quickly left.  After that, she avoided Kylo Ren like the plague.

Instead, she chose to explore the island itself, though there wasn’t much to look at.  She was reluctant to climb to high up the mountain, as she knew Kylo Ren nested up there at night, but the shore and slopes were both acceptable areas.  She took to taking walks around the island, traipsing the perimeter, though there wasn’t much to see besides snow and ice and rocks and the occasional scrubby bush or bare tree.

That quickly grew old, and she took to stepping out on the ice that covered the lake surrounding the island.  It was thrilling, in a terrifying sort of way, slowly shuffling out further and further, away from the castle and closer to freedom.  She could never bring herself to go out more than a couple dozen feet in any direction, though - the ice creaked ominously whenever she stepped on it, and the shore was more than a mile away.  Falling through a patch of thin ice into the freezing lake below sounded like a terrible way to begin her experience with swimming.

One thing she could say for her husband, though, was that he was not controlling in the slightest.  Besides being banned from the East Wing, Rey had no rules to her life, no structure.  She wasn’t told to dress a certain way, or what to eat or how much or how to spend her days.  

For the first time, she could live her life how she wanted without restrictions, and yet Rey felt like she was spiraling out of control.  With nothing to do, her thoughts took to wandering, and they couldn’t help but travel to dark places.

 _I wonder how Kylo Ren chose to eat the women that came before me?_  She found herself asking that question on many days.   _Does he rip them apart?  Bite their heads off, and then eat their bodies?  That’d be quick, at least.  Or maybe he does it limb by limb, so I’ll be bleeding out as I watch him do it.  Or perhaps he’d just swallow me whole - he’s certainly large enough to do so.  How long does a person live after that?  How long would I…_

Rey tried her best not to think those thoughts, though it was difficult when it felt like her fate was inevitable.  One day, it would come.  She didn’t know what would cause it, or when it would be - but soon, she would be devoured by a dragon, and _there was nothing she could do to stop it._

Despite her inner turmoil, her day-to-day life was almost tranquil.  Maz was kind to her, and she couldn’t blame her for chasing her off - and besides, she still took tea with her and sat with her during her meals.  Kylo Ren didn’t go out of his way to terrorize her - he left her alone entirely, thankfully.  Her husband gave her free reign of her palace.  If it wasn’t for the boredom and her impending doom, she might have actually enjoyed it.

It was just over a fortnight into her marriage when her peace was suddenly disturbed.

It must have been early in the morning when she stirred, as her husband was already gone, with only the rumpled sheets signifying that he had been there at all.  A couple of candles were lit in the corner on the stand, courtesy of Maz.  That was how she had taken to waking her up in the mornings - a little light brought in after her husband had left, so she could wake up naturally, instead of surrounded by darkness.

The pain had been what woke her - or the beginning of it, at least.  This was a pain she was familiar with - a deep, abiding ache that started in her pelvis and would radiate outward toward her stomach and into her thighs at it progressively worsened.  Rey groaned and threw her arm over her eyes to block out the light and the rest of reality.

Periods _sucked._

With an effort that was truly Herculean, Rey left the bed and made her way to the drawers of the little table across from the bed, moving quickly and squeezing her legs together to keep herself from trailing blood as she went.  She was glad no one was around to witness her ungraceful waddle - one of the few perks of living in a deserted castle - as she dug through the drawers for one of the little sponges she tucked up inside of herself to catch the blood.

Once that was in place and she had cleaned up the streaks across her thighs with a small towel, Rey returned to the bed and pulled back the covers.  Thankfully, she had woken quickly enough that she hadn’t stained the bedding - it would have been a pain to ask Maz to wash it out for her, and embarrassing, to say the least.  Having eaten poorly all her life, Rey was used to her monthlies being less-than-monthly, so didn’t pay as much attention to it as a woman who was used to being well-fed would.

The pain was an annoyance, but she could deal with it.  At least it was proof that she wasn’t pregnant.  Rey turned to her dresser, eager to find her clothing for the day so she could eat and then find a quiet spot to exist in misery -

\- and froze.

She wasn’t pregnant.

It hit her all at once.

_She wasn’t pregnant._

Rey dropped to the floor as the realization washed over her, gasping for air and too dizzy to keep standing.  All of the little pieces came together all of a sudden.

The Marquess wanted an _heir_.   _That_ was why he had been abducting wives, and _that_ was why they had all been eaten within the year.  They had failed to produce a child - or perhaps they had, and the baby had been female, or deformed, or stillborn - and in retribution, the Marquess had ordered his wife killed; eaten by his pet dragon with their babies still in their arms or their wombs barren and empty.

But why wouldn’t he simply lie with his wife again?  Rey was far from an expert on children and pregnancy and sex, but even she knew that it often took more than one time together for a man’s seed to take root.  From what she understood, most men found the act of, ahem, making children to be enjoyable, and many would partake so often they would stray from their wives to find it.  The women she had overheard discussing it were a more mixed bag - some were apathetic, some despised the act, and still others seemed to relish it even more than their male counterparts.

She supposed that if there were women that didn’t care for sex, there must have been men that disliked it as well.  Perhaps her husband was one of those men - it made sense, considering how apathetic he seemed to be about the whole ordeal of their wedding night, and his apparent relief when it was over.

So he wanted children, but didn’t like making them.  If the obligatory wedding night was not fruitful, then he’d kill his wife and find a new one.  It seemed stupid and petty - but really, could there be a reason to order his dragon to eat his wives that _wasn’t_ stupid and petty?  And it made _so much sense_ \- even the amount of time between his marriages and his wives’ deaths added up.

One thing was for certain: the Marquess could _not_ discover the truth of Rey’s condition - or lack thereof, in this case.  It would spell her doom more surely than anything else.

And - and maybe it wouldn’t be that difficult.  She’d have to hide the evidence of her moon’s blood, though thankfully beyond the physical symptoms and the blood-soaked sponges, as well as the cloth she had used to clean her thighs, there wouldn’t be much of that.  Perhaps she had even already unknowingly laid the groundwork - looking back, her illness from earlier in the month could have easily been mistaken for morning sickness.

But then what?   _Escape,_ she reminded herself.  That had been her goal from the beginning, after all.  She was simply on a time limit now - she had to find a way to flee the island before she would be expected to start showing.

Rey sprang to her feet as the soft padding of Maz’s footsteps suddenly reached her ears.  She shot a panicked look at the bloody rag on the ground, and her eyes darted around the room to look for a place to hide it.  As much as she liked the elderly serving woman, Rey knew her loyalties lay with the Marquess.  Maz would choose him over her every time.

 _Even if it meant your death?_ some part of her wondered.   _If you asked her, maybe she would help._  She doubted it, though.  If Maz saw the evidence of her monthly cycle, she would tell the Marquess.  Maybe she’d feel regret - but one way or another, her husband would know that her womb was empty, and then...and then...

 _No time, no time!_  She darted forward and threw her weight against the door, holding it shut as Maz jiggled the handle.

“Lady Rey,” she called through the door.  Rey would have feld bad for causing the worried tone in her voice if she didn’t know Maz would side with the man who sought her death a thousand times before she would help her.  “Are you in there?  I think something’s wrong with the door.”

“Oh, um, uh,” Rey stuttered before she found her voice.  “I locked it.  I’m not feeling very well today; I don’t want you to see me like this.”  Yes, illness!  That sounded like as good an excuse as any - and again, if she played her part well enough, maybe Maz would interpret it as morning sickness again.

“Are you ill?” she asked, the concern in her voice only growing stronger.

“Yes!” Rey piped up.  “I’m ill.  Very ill, very, very ill!  Ooooo, my stomach…”  She made a face behind the door.  Her acting sounded stiff, even to her own ears.  “You shouldn’t come in here.  I don’t want you to catch it.”  Well, except Maz wouldn’t be able to catch morning sickness from her if she was pregnant.  Maybe she should pretend she didn’t know she was pregnant yet?

This ruse was growing more complicated by the minute.  Best to keep it simple.

Though Maz seemed less than convinced, she didn’t question Rey.  “I’m sorry to hear it.  I’ll bring up some warm broth later; perhaps it will help you feel better.”

“Thank you, Maz,” Rey said through the door.  She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Maz’s retreating footsteps.

It was going to be a _long_ week.

Hiding the evidence of her cycle turned out to be easier than she thought.  She often faked illness after she first woke up, like she had the first day - after all, morning sickness was supposed to be in the _morning_ , right? - which gave her a chance to gather her wits about her before facing the day.

For once, being left to her own devices was more of a blessing than a curse.  Rey didn’t have to worry about hiding the pain lining her face when her cramps were particularly bad, as she only saw Maz during mealtimes or when she specifically sought her out.  She was free to sneak down to the lake every morning with a bucket of water to wash out the soiled sponges she had gone through the day before.  Dumping out the dirty water was a bit more of a problem, as there were no plants that needed watering and dropping it in the snow would only stain it red, but throwing it out over the icy lake didn’t look _too_ suspicious.  There was still some discoloration, but the water spread enough that it was barely noticeable.  Besides, Maz didn’t come to this part of the island all that often, as far as she knew.

Rey should have realized her luck wouldn’t hold out.  After all, it never had before.  Why should it start now?

She was down at the lake, washing out one of her sponges.  The other two were lain out in the snow beside her, awaiting their cleansing as well.  Now on the fourth day of her cycle, the flow of blood was beginning to slow, and Rey predicted that she wouldn’t have to sneak out to hide the evidence for more than a day or two more.

She was still at a loss for what to do afterwards.  Pregnancies were few and far between at Niima Outpost, and those that occurred often ended in a miscarriage - or worse, the death of the mother if they made it through the full nine months.  There had been a woman in Finn’s small town that had carried her child to term, and brought her healthy, bouncing baby boy around with her everywhere afterwards, but Rey hadn’t seen her more than a handful of times while she was pregnant.

Rey had no _idea_ how to fake a pregnancy.  She knew that her stomach was supposed to swell, of course, and she had heard of morning sickness, but what else was there?  Even if there was more to it, how was she supposed to fake the bulging belly?  Especially without the sharp-eyed Maz noticing…

Perhaps there was a book on pregnancy in the library.  There was a room of a decent size in the castle that was filled to the brim with books.  It’d be useful to know what symptoms she should be faking - and it would be an excellent chance to improve her reading abilities.

 _It’s not like it matters,_ she thought to herself, wringing out the first sponge and grabbing the second.   _With any luck, I won’t be here for too much longer.  I just have to find a way to escape…_

Rey jerked to a standing position when the _crunch crunch crunch_ of footsteps in the snow reached her ears.   _Maz!  Why does she always show up at the worst of times?_  Panicked, she tossed the sponge in her hands into the bucket of water, as well as the remaining ones in the snow.

She whirled just in time to see Maz come around the bend.  Her hands laced behind her back to hide the scarlet stains decorating her palms and fingers, and she placed herself between the old serving maid and the bucket.

“Maz!” she cried with an overly fake smile, hoping she didn’t sound too alarmed.  “What are you doing here?”

Maz looked just as surprised to see her here as Rey was.  “I’m gathering snow so I’ll have water to boil tonight’s stew in,” she explained.  “Usually I pull it from the east side of the island, but the sun melted most of it this morning.  It’s unseasonably warm today, isn’t it?”

“Ah, yes.  Very strange weather we’re having.”  Rey had no idea what was and was not considered to be warm in the winter - it still felt freezing to her - but it seemed to be a good idea to keep Maz distracted and the conversations flowing.  She edged around the bucket to keep herself between it and Maz as she moved forward.

But Maz still stopped, her eyes locked on a spot to Rey’s left.  Rey’s eyes darted to the spot and back to Maz, keeping the wide smile plastered across her face.

Then, her head whipped back to the spot.

The crimson patch was still in the snow from where her sponges had been resting before.

Rey tried to fight down the nausea building in her as Maz stepped forward, tugging her arm forward to peer at the little rivers of red dyed into her skin and at the bucket behind her.

“Oh,” she said, and Rey began to feel dizzy, because _it was over, it was all over._  “I was wondering where you were running off to every day.  I suppose this also explains why you’ve been sick so often.  I thought it might have been the food again.”

“No,” Rey replied weakly.  “Just this.”

Maz shrugged.  “I know you’re used to doing things like this for yourself, but there’s no need for embarrassment.  If you leave them with me in the morning, I’ll be happy to wash them.  You needn’t worry yourself with trivial tasks like this if you don’t want.”

Maz turned to leave, no doubt to find another place to gather snow that didn’t have the taint of her blood, and Rey called after her.  “Wait,” she gasped, her heart pounding.  “Wait, please.  Don’t tell His Lordship.”

Maz turned to Rey with a confused look.  “Excuse me?”

“Don’t tell him,” she begged, on the verge of tears.  “He’ll kill me, I know it.  I don’t want to die.   _Please_.”

The bewildered look that spread across Maz’s face did nothing to comfort Rey.  “Why do you think he’d kill you?”

Rey swallowed thickly.  “Because I’m not pregnant,” she said finally.  “That’s what this means, right?  I’m bleeding, so I’m not with child.  That’s why he killed his other wives - because they didn’t produce an heir.”

Maz stepped forward and took her hand.  The kind look in her eyes nearly killed Rey, mostly because there was no doubt in her mind that no matter how she pleaded, Maz would tell the Marquess anyways.  “You think he killed his previous wives because they never gave him a child?”

“They were all dead less than a year after arriving,” she sniffled.  “I’m not stupid.  I can put the facts together.  There’s nothing else it could be.”

“Oh, Rey,” she sighed.  “Dear child - he doesn’t want to kill you any more than you want to die.”

“Very comforting, considering the man has killed all his other brides without reservation.”

“Listen to me,” Maz murmured, her wrinkled hand squeezing Rey’s own.  “Trust in your husband, and you will have no need to fear him.  He would never hurt you unless you force his hand.”

“Because if he hurts me, it’s _my_ fault,” Rey snarled, jerking her hand back and turning away so Maz couldn’t see her tears.  “That makes _perfect_ sense.  How could I not have seen it before?”  Her hands shook as she continued.  “How can you ask me to trust him?  I have every reason _not_ to!”

“I know,” Maz whispered, “I know.”  Rey heard her turn, the soft crinkle of her footsteps in the snow like thunder in her ears.

Maz offered her one last piece of advice before she left.  “What I’m asking is no small thing; I know that.  The Marquess is not an easy man to trust; not an easy man to love.  After everything you’ve heard about him, I don’t blame you for fearing him - but if you trust him, I promise you, he _will not hurt you_.  He’ll keep you safe - and he will deny you nothing.”

When Rey didn’t respond, Maz sighed.  “Just think on my words,” she said, and left Rey alone to her fears.

* * *

 Rey _did_ think on Maz’s words, though they brought her little comfort.  Trust him?  How could she ask her to _trust_ him?  He was going to _kill_ her, and she wouldn’t be able to _stop_ him!  Not only that, but Rey was notoriously slow to trust.  To this day, there was only one person in the entire world that she trusted, and that was Finn - _maybe_ one and a half, but she couldn’t even put her complete faith in Poe, having known him for so short a time.

She was terrified when the door to her room creaked open that night, sure that this would be her last night alive.  Her body froze as she waited for the inevitable confrontation.

He said nothing, though, simply padding around the room as he prepared for bed.  Even as he climbed under the blankets, curling up on his side as was customary, he was silent.

Rey waited several minutes to see if he would say anything, if he would mention something that would indicate Maz had spoken to him.  But as the minutes turned into an hour, his breathing slowed and evened out as he fell into a deep, deep sleep.

 _Trust in your husband._  Maybe it was some sort of clue - or a warning, more like.  Perhaps Maz hadn’t spoken to him.

Perhaps she wanted Rey to tell him herself.

Rey lay awake all night, trying not to toss and turn.  She was still unused to sharing the bed with another person, and especially now, with so delicate a situation on her hands, she didn’t want to wake him before she decided what to do.

That night seemed to be the longest of her life.

Finally, after what could have been hours or days of laying awake in the blackness, Rey felt her husband stir.  She heard the intake of air and the small sigh as he yawned, as well as the crack of his bones when he sat up and left the bed, shuffling around as he prepared to leave.  Almost dawn, then.

It was now or never.

“I’m not pregnant,” she said flatly.  The darkness swallowed up her words.

For a moment, the movement paused.  Then, she heard his feet shift on the rug on the floor.  “What?”

Vaguely, Rey was aware that this was the first time she was hearing his voice - a low baritone, emanating from deep in his chest - but she was more aware of the tone, and the way she couldn’t tell if it was shock or anger coloring his voice.

“You heard me,” she snapped defensively.  “I’m not pregnant.”

Another beat of silence.  “Oh,” he said, before returning to doing whatever it was that he did to prepare for the morning.

Rey sat up in bed and stared at the spot where she thought he was.  In the past few weeks, she had gotten very good at navigating the room in the dark, and just from his voice and her knowledge of the rest of her chambers, she could practically see where he was standing, very aware of his presence.  “So?” she prompted.

She heard a shift, like he was looking at her, too.  “So...what?”

“What’s it going to be?”

“What’s _what_ going to be?”

“Are you going to kill me now?” she demanded.

“ _Kill_ you?”  It was _definitely_ shock this time around.

Rey took to her feet, her anger making her bold.  “Yes, _kill_ me.  Like you _murdered_ your previous wives.  Fed them to your pet dragon when they didn’t give you the heir you wanted.”

“What - no, nevermind.  I’m not going to kill you, regardless of what you might think of me.”  He sounded almost offended.

Rey clenched her fists.  “You won’t kill me _now_ , you mean.”

Again, there was another long silence.  “Yes,” he finally said quietly.  “I won’t kill you now.  And I don’t want to kill you _ever_.”

“But you will,” she prompted.

“I _might_ ,” he corrected, “but that depends on you.”

“Oh, _might_ ,” she said sarcastically.  “What _is_ it with you and Maz?  What’s so _twisted_ in your mind that you both think that if _you_ kill me, then it’s because of something _I_ did?”

“Listen - “

“No, _you_ listen!” she shouted.  “Don’t you try to pin this shit on me!  You’ve abducted women for five years now.   _Five!_  You send your dragon to terrorize your own people every time you don’t get what you want, and you kill the women who you’ve sworn to honor and protect for the rest of your life!  Forgive me for not being eager to _listen_ to you!”

She didn’t even hear him step forward, didn’t even know he was right in front of her until his hand brushed against her shoulder.  “Hey, hey,” he murmured in what he must have thought was a soothing voice, but only riled her up more.  “Trust me, I’ll - “

“ _Trust?_ ” She jerked away from him.  “Don’t talk to me about _trust!_ ”

She reached forward to shove him away from her, but as soon as her hands made contact with his chest, his fingers wrapped around her forearms, keeping her in place.  “It’s alright - “

“ _Don’t touch me!”_ she practically shrieked.  She tried to jerk away from him, but he held fast.  “It’s _not_ alright!”  With a jolt, Rey realized she was shaking, the tears streaming down her face.  “Don’t you _get_ it?” she demanded.  It was impossible to keep the choking sobs out of her voice, no matter how much she wanted to hide her weakness from this man that she hated, _despised_.  “I am _terrified!_  I have been given a _death sentence_ by being sent here, and everyone keeps telling me it doesn’t have to be, if I do this or if I don’t do that, but it doesn’t even matter, since no one will tell me what I’m supposed to do!  I guess it’s just as well, since it’s all lies anyways,” she snarled.  “I am _alone_ here.  I am _alone,_ and I am _afraid_ , and there is _no one_ here to help me!  And now I am going to die just like that, and there is _nothing I can do to change that!_ ”

“No,” he whispered, “Ssshhhh.”

“Don’t _shush_ me!” she sobbed, making another futile attempt at pulling away.

His hands squeezed lightly at her wrists.  “You should get some rest,” he told her.  “You’ll feel better after you sleep.”

Rey froze then.  She knew what would happen if she slept now.  She had already said too much, yelled and struck out and cursed his name.  If she went to bed, no doubt she would wake up in the belly of the dragon - if she woke at all.  Or perhaps he’d want her awake, so she could feel as much pain as possible as she died.  “No,” she begged, her voice hushed and rough.  “No, no, please don’t, _please_.”

“You need to _sleep_ ,” he repeated, and Rey’s legs shook beneath her.  She was _so tired_ , but she couldn’t sleep, not now.

It took her a moment to realize he had released her wrists.  One of his arms wrapped around her waist, drawing her close to him, and her palms pressed flat against his chest as she tried to push him away, though she seemed to grow weaker by the second.

“You’re okay,” he crooned, “you’re okay.”  Rey closed her eyes to try to block out his words, and the soft touch of his lips feathered over her lids.

All of a sudden, her eyes began to grow heavy, and she leaned against him for support, her hands fisting into his nightshirt to keep herself upright.  “Please,” she whispered, still terrified, but no longer quite sure what she was pleading for.  “ _Please._ ”

His free hand skated up her neck to cup her jaw with surprising gentleness.  “I know,” he murmured, so soft and sweet.  In her exhausted state, the words seemed slurred and elongated.  “It’s okay.”

He tilted her head forward with the hand on her face, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.  “ _Sleep,_ ” he repeated one last time.

The last thing Rey was aware of was an arm wrapping around her shoulders and the other slipping beneath her knees as her legs gave out from under her.  She turned her head against the warm pillow of his chest that had suddenly appeared beneath her cheek and knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maz ships it! Maz also sounds distinctly like an elderly woman trying to set up some long-suffering girl with her socially awkward but sweet grandson. That'd be an interesting blind date to see.
> 
> Once more, I want to thank you all for your love and attention! We've just hit 100 reviews, which is amazing! (I mean. Like. Half of them are mine, because I like replying and chatting with you all, but that's detail stuff.) We have, however, just hit 300 kudos, which is another fantastic milestone! You're all amazing~


	5. Dreamweaver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter title: "This Lazy Motherfucker".

_That night, Rey dreamed of a greying sorceress._

_The stories never said that sorceresses could grow old.  The legends only told of wicked witches who lured lovely young women who had wandered too far from home into their cozy huts, feeding them by their fires before slitting their throats to bathe in their blood to keep their eternal youth and beauty.  Even the ‘good’ sorceresses never aged - stunning even as they cursed the cruel and wicked until they atoned for their sins._

_But perhaps sorceresses who were also queens were different._

_Despite the steady progression of time showing in her weathered skin and the way her hair was losing its color, this woman was no less comely than she would have been in her youth.  Different, perhaps - but not lesser.  The elegant drape of her blue robes was untarnished by the dust or snow of the road, and a delicate silver circlet rested upon her brow, accented only by the fire opal in the center and the intricate braids pinned atop her head.  Though her brown eyes were warm, there was a certain steel in her gaze; a conviction to finish this task she had set out to complete so long ago._

_The beast had terrorized her lands for many moons now, fleeing from her armies after leaving the capitol in ruins and thousands dead.  She could not allow him to escape, but he was much quicker on the wing than she could ever be on foot or even on a horse, and the army only slowed her even further._

_Thankfully, he did not make it difficult to follow him.  He left a trail of burned countryside and destroyed towns in his wake, and every time they stopped to rest, the villagers would point them in the direction of the monster that had ruined their lives._

_Today, however, there was nowhere left for him to run.  He had fled as far south as he could, to the ice-capped mountains so tall even the bravest and hardiest of birds could not fly above.  There were no mountain passes for him to fly through, no secret tunnels to lead him to the mysterious, frozen lands beyond the kingdom.  He was trapped._

_But the demon seemed to tire of running.  Instead of hiding away as far up as he could bear, further than any human lungs would be able to breathe the air, he had made his den in one of the lower caves of the mountain, and by all reports, had yet to leave, not even to find food or water._

_Her generals protested when she told them of her plan.  “You cannot mean to face him alone!” they gasped.  “You know what this creature has done!  Who knows what he could do to you?”_

_The sorceress only smiled sadly.  “What more could he take from me that he has not already taken?  My life?  Meaningless, with no one left in it.  There is nothing left he can do to me.  Besides,” she sighed, “I don’t think he’ll hurt me.  He can’t - not anymore.”_

_Still, they objected - but even the greatest of men could do nothing when the mightiest of queens gave a direct order.  They allowed her to go with many complaints - but allow her to go, they did._

_From her spot on the mountain path, she could see her army stretched out over the winding path below, the armor of her knights glittering in the sun like a great river across the land.  Should anything happen to her, they would ensure that her kingdom was safe, that it was rebuilt, now that this horrible war had come to a close._

_But nothing would happen to her - she was sure of it._

_The beast shrank away when she stepped into the light piercing the mouth of the cave.  “So,” he rasped, his many pointed teeth flashing into view as his lips moved, “I see you’ve finally found me.”_

_“That I have,” she agreed softly.  “What will you do now?”_

_The demon laughed.  “You come to me with an army of thousands at your back, powerful magicks at your beck and call, and the entire kingdom demanding my head.  I don’t think it matters what I do - only what you do.”_

_“No,” she corrected.  “What I do depends on you, so I repeat - what will you do?”_

_That seemed to anger him, and he finally advanced on her, his eyes and teeth flashing.  “I did it,” he hissed viciously.  “I destroyed your home.  I killed your people.  And you know what?  I_ enjoyed _it.  I_ liked _hearing them scream and run from me.  I_ liked _the way their blood tasted and the way their bones crunched between my teeth.  If I could go back, I’d do it again.  I - I_ ate _your husband.  Doesn’t that make you angry?” he demanded to know, his own monstrous face close to the sorceress’ even as he snarled at her._

_“You killed my husband,” the sorceress whispered.  There was no fury in her gaze, no judgement in her eyes despite his many supposed crimes, and that seemed to scare the beast more than any threat.  “You killed my husband,” she whispered, “And then you left.  The city was your to take - but you left instead.”_

_The monster shrank back as the sorceress moved toward him.  For every step she took towards him, he took one back, as she crowded him into a corner of the cave.  “What do you take me for?” he demanded, though his voice lacked the rage and harshness it had bore before.  “I have no use for palaces or kingdoms or underlings to attend to my whims.  I am a monster - I destroy.  That is why I left - to destroy.  To kill your peasants and eat your livestock and raze your villages.  So do it - kill me.  I know you want to.  Kill me, and I will never plague your kingdom again.  Kill me, and take your revenge.  Kill me.  Let’s be done with this.”_

_The sorceress took another step forward, but the demon could move no further back.  She moved slowly forward until she stood before him once more, and murmured only a single word._

_“No.”_

_Monsters couldn’t cry - they were incapable, whether because it was physically impossible or because they were unable to feel grief or remorse or a combination of the two.  The beast did not cry - he didn’t know how - but the noise that escaped him was long and mournfully low.  The sound was so wretched and broken it nearly changed her mind about the demon’s capacity to weep - but it pierced her heart all the same._

_“Please,” he begged, rough and anguished.  “I_ can’t. _I_ can’t _anymore,_ please! _After everything - I am_ begging _you.  End it._ Please _.”_

_Finally, the sorceress reached out to the beast, wrapping her arms around his great head.  “I know,” she crooned, though her voice broke as well, and the tears ran freely down her face.  “I know.  It’s okay.  You and I - we’ll find a way to end this together.  I promise you that.”_

And with those final words, Rey’s eyes fluttered open once more.

* * *

 

Rey was more than a little surprised to realize that she hadn’t woken up dead the morning after her confrontation with the Marquess.  She spent nearly ten minutes in bed, tracing the elaborate designs woven into the canopy above with her eyes, trying to reconcile how _certain_ she felt about her death the previous night with the fact that she could still wiggle her fingers and toes, or that she could smell some wonderful aroma wafting through the room - a little cup of chamomile and lavender tea sitting on the nightstand, she learned once she turned her head, the steam curling above the mug.

Slowly, she sat up and took the mug between her hands.  If she was dead, would she really feel the warmth seeping into her fingers?  In fact, Rey might have said that the lemon in the tea was tangier than any she had had in days past, the honey sweeter, the drink more soothing.  Despite the...strange way she had fallen asleep, she felt as if she was better rested than she had been in ages.  Maybe she should have fainting spells more often.

Finally, she made her way out of bed, wrapping a robe around herself instead of dressing for the day.  Walking down the stairs of the castle to Maz’s kitchen was surreal - at the same time, she was both hyper aware of her surroundings, of each crack in the stone and each fiber of the rugs tickling between her bare toes, and completely blind to them.

Faster than she thought possible, she was in the kitchens.  Maz paused in kneading the dough for the day’s bread as Rey sat heavily in one of the wooden chairs by the little table in the corner.  After a moment, she returned to her work.  Though her eyes were focused on the dough, Rey could feel her watching her in her peripherals.

“Good morning,” Maz greeted her with feigned nonchalance.  “How did you sleep?”

“...Very well, thank you.”  It certainly wasn’t a _lie_ \- it was probably more true today than any of the times she had said those exact same words in the days before.

Eventually, she couldn’t take the weight of Maz’s subtle regard any longer.  “I thought I was going to die,” she blurted out.  “I told him I wasn’t pregnant - I thought he was going to kill me.”

That caused Maz to pause in her work to look at her directly.  “I told you that he wouldn’t.  I know you’re afraid, but there’s no need - you are safe here.”

“And when he tires of me?”  Rey demanded.  “Or when the dragon is hungry and wants a snack?  Will I be safe then?”

After a moment, Rey sighed, letting the anger flow out of her.  She was sick of fear, she was tired of constantly being on her guard.  “I don’t know what you want,” she whispered, “And I don’t know what _he_ wants.  Surely you must understand my wariness.  I don’t know about him, but - you haven’t led me wrong yet.  I’m willing to trust you - but I need you to give me _something_.   _Anything_.”

Maz slowly came around the table and approached her.  Even though Rey was sitting down, she still had to tilt her head down slightly to meet Maz’s eyes.  The old woman took Rey’s hands in her own, and Rey ran her thumb gently along the back of her palm.  Her skin was made up of wrinkles layered upon wrinkles and was covered in a fine layer of flour.  The smell of rosemary clung to her, and a little piece of it was stuck under one of her nails.

Rey wondered if her own grandmother had ever made rosemary bread, or held her hand when she was frightened or lost.  She wondered if her grandmother had ever known she even _existed_.  Would she have been like Maz?

“I’m sorry,” Maz said.  “Perhaps I’ve been insensitive, but I need you to understand - when I hide these things from you, it is only for your own safety.  Yours, mine...and his.”

Rey swallowed, but nodded along anyways.  “Okay,” she whispered, though she hated that so much was being kept from her.

Maz squeezed her hands gently, mulling over her words carefully.  “Kylo Ren isn’t the one to fear,” she finally said.  “He cannot act to harm you unless the Marquess orders it.  He can’t act _at all_ unless the Marquess tells him to.  That’s not to say you should be frightened of the Marquess - he bears you no more ill will than I do.  Just...don’t do anything unexpected.  Don’t surprise him, and he won’t surprise you, either.  Not in a bad way, at least.”

“That’s _very_ specific, Maz; thank you.”

Maz chuckled a little at that, and Rey allowed a small smile to creep back onto her face.  “Just keep doing what you’re doing,” the old woman told her, “but maybe not so fearfully from here on out.”

Maz gave her hand one last pat before releasing her and shuffling away one more.  “Now,” she said decisively, “I’m going to grab some more flour from the cellars for this bread, and then we’ll see about getting some breakfast in you, hm?”

“Sounds good,” Rey agreed, straightening up in her chair once more.  “And Maz?” she called after the woman’s retreating form, her manners returning to her.  “Thank you for the tea this morning.  I know I was upset yesterday, but...it’s nice to know that someone cares enough about me to do little things like that.”

“My dear,” Maz said over her shoulder as she disappeared around the corner, “you must be mistaken.  I didn’t _bring_ you any tea this morning.”

* * *

 

Though the actual contents of her day-to-day life didn’t change much from then on, Rey found that her days were...easier, in a way.  The possibility of her death, caused by some unknown trigger, still worried her, but she spent far less time fretting about it than she had before.  Somehow, her conversation with Maz (and argument with the Maquess) had left her...steadier.  Calmer.  It would have seemed strange, to the outside eye, the way she simply stopped worrying about her potential impending doom, but strangely enough, it just didn’t trouble her as much as it once had.

 _We’re all going to die eventually,_ she thought with far more cheer than was warranted for such a morbid statement, _so why worry unless there’s something you can do about it?_   _Especially_ if such worrying would only bring her death about all the faster.

Instead, Rey searched for new ways to occupy her days.  Her walks around the island continued, and she explored the lake ice tentatively.  However, she also allowed her meandering path to bring her inland more often.  Back in Jakku, she used to delight in climbing the sheer cliffs of Kelvin Ravine when she wasn’t scavenging.  Something about the combination of the heights and the wind in her hair left her feeling free, and the effect was not lost on her now that she was in Takodana.  The mountainous island was the perfect place to practice her climbing skills, but Rey was always careful not to stray too close to the peak - the cave that Kylo Ren disappeared to every night was up there, and Rey had no desire to know what was inside.

The dragon continued with his...lazing, sprawling out over the terraces of the castle, and Rey did her best to avoid him.  There was one time, however, that she had passed over the dais he was lounging on, just to prove to herself she could.  As she had approached, her footsteps loud so she didn’t startle him, Kylo Ren shifted, and opened one eye to watch her trek.  Rey hesitated briefly before continuing her walk, her gaze hardening into a glare, _daring_ him to say anything, try anything.  Though she passed not ten feet from his head, he didn’t move other than a shift of his eyes to follow her steady gait.  Rey held his eye, glowering at him the whole time until she was across the platform and was forced to break eye contact to look where she was going.  Rey thought she heard him make that growling hum again - the one she had come to associate with a chuckle - before he shifted onto his other side and, for all intents and purposes, went back to sleep.

_Jackass._

Rey tried to pick up other hobbies, too.  She quickly discovered that embroidery was _not_ for her - despite her best efforts, the thread always tangled and knotted, or snapped on her calloused fingers.  Art didn’t go much better - it was far too easy to smudge the charcoal she used for sketching, and even when she didn’t, the pictures never really looked like she had wanted them to.

The open air forge she found outside the castle grounds, however, was a blessing.  Regardless of her lackluster abilities in sewing and artistry, Rey liked to _create_.  There was something satisfying in taking a shapeless hunk of metal and turning it into something useful - finding something purposeless, and giving it a reason to be.  At first, she stuck to the basic designs she already knew - taking old blades and sharpening them, or re-purposing armor.  Soon, however, she moved onto more ornamental designs, like carving vines and flowers onto the flat of a sword, placing sharp spikes along a helmet, like the horns of a demon.  The more she practiced, the more she built on the skills she had acquired in Jakku.

She even started going to the library regularly to practice her reading.  It was slow going - though the basics came naturally to her, she often stumbled over larger words, and was forced to pause and sound them out before they started to make sense.  In the interest of hurrying her studies along, she started bringing a quill, inkwell, and some parchment with her to the library and would copy a few of the passages.  Her handwriting was _atrocious_ , the ink blotchy and the scrawl messy compared to the flowing loops in the illuminated manuscripts, but somehow, writing it out helped her to remember some of the more complicated words she came across.

Her interactions with the Marquess were...unchanged.  The night after their confrontation, she had approached their bed with much trepidation, but eventually the encroaching darkness and her heavy eyes had forced her to lay down.  She didn’t wake when he entered the room, but slowly grew aware of him standing over their bed once he stopped shuffling around.  She opened her eyes, though she knew she couldn’t see anything, and focused on where she perceived his presence to be.

He seemed just as uncertain as she, and he hesitated even longer than she had before slipping under the covers.  Even after that, Rey could feel the weight of his eyes upon her, and the two watched each other from across the bed for many minutes.  Though a conversation was imminent, he seemed just as hesitant as her to speak.

After all, what could they say to each other?  If Maz was reluctant to speak about their...situation, Rey doubted the Marquess would be any more forthcoming.  What, then?  ‘Thanks for the tea,’ hardly seemed like the best conversation starter, especially now.  And what could he say to her?  ‘Let me take you out into the moonlight to show you my face and make a blood oath to never hurt you, and then I’ll ravish you in our rooms like a husband should a wife’?  It hardly seemed plausible.  As it was, they simply had nothing to say to each other.

Eventually, Rey sighed softly and tucked her arm under her pillow to draw it closer to her, letting her eyes fall shut.  Maybe they’d find a way to speak to each other in the future, but tonight was not that night.  Across from her, Rey felt the tension leave her husband’s body, and he turned onto his other side, facing away to give her space once more.  By the time she awoke, he was gone like he was every morning.

She didn’t hate him.  Not really.

Of course, she didn’t particularly _like_ him, either, but the fierce enmity she had originally directed towards him had faded.  If they had to live the rest of their lives in this uneasy truce, then so be it - it was a vast improvement from their previous relationship.

It was many weeks later that Rey was awoken by a sound she had never heard before - a rumbling _crack_ that seemed to go on and on and on.  Startled, she jerked out of bed, and raced from the room, her bare feet slapping against the cold stone.

Rey stumbled out of the castle onto the nearest terrace, teetering backwards as she whirled around to face the keep, sure that part of it was suddenly going to crumble off and go tumbling into the lake.  What else could that noise be, but the sound of stone cracking, the ancient castle collapsing on itself?

Maz was already outside, and as soon as she saw Rey’s panic, she took her hand.  “Look,” she said, turning Rey to face outwards, toward the frozen lake.

It wasn’t the castle that was crumbling - it was the _ice_.  Far out from the shore, a huge chunk of ice had split off from the main sheet and was floating off.  The water was visible again, almost black from the depth of the lake and the grey of the sky.

“We’re going to have an early spring this year,” Maz told her as Rey stared out at the cracked ice sheet.  Her hand slipped from Maz’s as she walked toward the railing.  “I’m looking forward to the garden going into bloom again.  It’s very austere during the winter.”

Rey watched as another chunk of ice broke off from the main sheet, much smaller that the first one.  “Does it all melt?” she asked.  She hadn’t realized how much _water_ there was.

Maz nodded, approaching to stand beside her.  “Oh, yes.  The lakes are beautiful during the summer.  Even better - now that the ice is breaking up, the locals will be able to sail across and make a delivery.  Food is always _so_ much better when it’s fresh.”

Rey had a difficult time imagining food that was better than what Maz was already making her, but this place had surprised her before.

Sure enough, winter began to dissipate.  The icicles clinging to the eaves of the castle dripped constantly as they melted away, and snow began to slide off the sides of the mountain in great drifts, exposing the stone beneath.  Rey had fallen to her knees at the first sign of greenery in the gardens, marveling at the tiny green shoot that had poked its head up through the dirt.  She cared for that tiny, growing plant as best she could in the days that followed, though she constantly worried for it, since it was still so cold, and so much of the ground still had a layer of snow.  Maybe she should have spent more time practicing her sewing.  Then she might have been able to knit it a tiny hat and a little pair of plant mittens.

As Maz had assured her, the lake ice continued to break up over the next couple of days.  Some of it piled near the shore, and then melted down, until the lake was water once more, with only a few chunks of ice floating around in it.  The shores still looked more like slush than water, but on the whole, the lake was open and clear once more.

It was several days after she had first noticed the ice melting that the deliveries arrived.  When she first spotted the white sails on the water, Rey all but raced from the safety of the castle, almost tripping over the steps down to reach the docks and barely even noticing when she sped past Kylo Ren (asleep, as usual).

By the time she arrived, it was already too late.  The delivery, in several large crates, lined the dock.  The bow of the boat was already pointed back to the opposite shore, the headwind filling the sails and pushing it along.

Along the stern stood several sailors, looking back on the island.  The surprise on their faces when they first caught sight of Rey was evident, even from this distance, and for a moment, Rey considered how she must have looked to them, in trousers and a vest with her hair unbound in the morning light.

But it was their _dread_ that truly caught Rey’s eye.  Even as the ship sailed away, one of them gestured across his chest in a sign that Rey recognized as a glyph to ward off evil.  Their eyes, haunted and fearful, focused on the island she stood upon.

A shiver raced up Rey’s mind.

“Don’t pay them any mind, child,” Maz said, appearing by her side.  “Sailors are superstitious folk.  One will tell you that a dog barking as they set sail is a bad omen, and the next will tell you that not hearing _any_ dogs as they set off is a sign of stormy seas.”

Rey wasn’t sure what to say about that.  Instead, she asked, “So what now?  Do these just...stay here?” she indicated the boxes lining the dock.

Maz chuckled.  “No.  Can’t have the birds feasting on our meals.  I need to bring these back to the cellars - they’ll keep better there.”

Rey jumped in alarm when Maz leaned down and heaved up one of the boxes into her arms.  The sight of such a small, elderly woman carrying a crate that must have weighed as much as she did was distressing, to say the very least, and she darted forward to grab the box from her.  She staggered under its weight before setting it back down at her feet.

“Maz, you shouldn’t be carrying this!  It’s _far_ too heavy.”

“Don’t you underestimate me!” Maz scolded.  “I’m stronger than you think.  I don’t need you treating me like I’m made of paper; I’m perfectly capable of handling this myself.”

“You’ve done this _before?_ ”

“Of course - every year since we came here.”

“And you’re telling me that you’ve never hurt yourself doing this?”

Maz laughed at that.  “I’m only human.  I’ve hurt myself carrying these more times than I can count!  But we common folk are made of tougher stuff than that - throwing my back out once or twice isn’t going to stop me from doing my job.”

Rey gaped in horror.  “Threw out your _back?_  Maz, why - _stop trying to pick that up!”_  She pressed her hands down on the box as Maz leaned down to grab it once more.  Instead of risking her hurting herself, she climbed on top of the crate to keep Maz from lifting it again.  “Why haven’t you ever asked for help?  Gotten a horse to drag it up to the cellars, instead of trying to bring it up yourself?  Some of these crates are _huge_.  There’s no way you could have lifted them.”

“Of course I don’t lift them.  I open them up and bring everything up to the cellars one at a time.”

“But that would take _days!_  Just ask for some help!”

“I couldn’t.  The Marquess doesn’t like to be disturbed while he’s working.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Rey muttered.

“You and I are the only ones here.  If you want to help, I won’t stop you, but this will take all day if I don’t help you.”

Rey paused, just staring at her.  What she had said…

“We’re not,” she finally said decisively.

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it!”  Rey bounded off her place on the crate.  “I have an idea!  Stay _right there!_  Don’t move, and _definitely_ don’t try to pick anything else up!  I’m _serious,_ Maz,” she told her with a disapproving glare as she turned and bounded back up the stairs.

Maz only threw up her hands, and Rey turned up the next flight up stairs, confident that she would leave them alone - for now.

It didn’t take long for her to find what she was looking for - or rather, _who_ she was looking for.  After all, it was difficult to lose an entire _dragon_ on an island as small as this.

For the first time since she had come here, Rey marched out onto Kylo Ren’s terrace without any hesitation in her step.  She didn’t think she would ever lose the slight trepidation she felt when she approached him - but only a fool didn’t feel any worry at all when walking up to a giant, fanged, clawed, flying, fire-breathing lizard.

But Maz’s words from so many weeks ago rang clear in her mind.  Kylo Ren couldn’t - or wouldn’t - hurt her unless the Marquess willed it.  For now, she seemed to be in her husband’s good graces.  She had nothing to fear from this dragon.  She couldn’t _let_ herself be afraid of him, or that fear would rule her whole life.

 _“Hey!”_ she barked as she stomped across the platform.  She planted herself directly in front of him, her stance wide and her hands on her hips.

For a moment, she thought he might ignore her.  Then, his head rose up from where it rested on the ground.  His body jerked as he rolled from his side onto his stomach, and his neck twisted to face her.

“Little one,” he greeted before blowing a ring of smoke at her.  Rey swatted through the smog, more annoyed than anything else.  “I was wondering when you were going to stop tip-toeing around me.  I did _so_ enjoy our last conversation.”

Rey barely even _remembered_ the specifics of their last conversation, but it mattered little at this point.  “I’m not here to make idle chit-chat with you,” she snapped at him.  “What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?”

If Kylo Ren was perturbed by her demand, he didn’t show it.  “Ah,” he said, “questioning a dragon’s morals.  Very wise.  If you had ever heard a fairytale, you would know that most dragons engage in kidnapping of some sort.  Granted, usually we kidnap _princesses_ , not little scavengers from the middle of the desert, and generally they don’t get any prior warning - “

“I’m not questioning your morals,” Rey interrupted.  “I think it’s obvious that you don’t _have any_ at this point.  I’m questioning your _loyalty.”_

That gave him pause.  “My _loyalty?”_ he questioned.  “You’re questioning my _loyalty?_ ”

“Yes.  You said yourself - the Marquess is your master?”

“He is,” Kylo Ren agreed.

“Then why do you allow his servants to suffer?  If you’re sworn to serve him, why do you ignore the needs of the others who serve him.  I think he’d be _very_ angry to hear that you ignored them in their time of need.”

“Maz is very happy here,” Kylo Ren drawled.  “Her quarters are comfortable and furnished with everything she could ever need, and she receives a _considerable_ stipend for her work.  Even if she didn’t, I doubt she would leave - she cares for him too much.”

“Just because Maz is happy doesn’t mean she’s _okay,”_ Rey told him.  “Does the Marquess know that Maz has carried the delivery crates on her own _every time_ they’ve arrived?  I repeat - _by herself_.  Not only that, but she’s _hurt_ herself several times doing so.  She was just telling me that she’s thrown out her back trying to bring the boxes up to the cellar - _more than once._  What about when these injuries start to pile up, and she’s unable to work?  Do you think the Marquess will be happy when he has to send his favorite servant into retirement and hire a new one on - someone he doesn’t _know_ and _trust?_  How do you think he’ll feel, knowing that you didn’t do everything you could to help her?”

For the first time since she had met him, Kylo Ren looked... _dumbstruck_.   _Appalled_.  “I…”

Rey didn’t care what he thought of her manners or speech, though.  He was a dragon in service to her husband, so he only had to do one thing - _serve._  “Fine.  If you won’t act without a direct order, then how about this: The Marquess is your master, and I am his wife.  My will is his.  Do you hear me?  I am your _Marquesa_ , and you _will_ obey my wishes.   _Go and help Maz.”_

He only spent a moment more in stunned silence after that.  Then, he heaved his body up and took to his paws.  In a gesture of respect she hadn’t expected, he dipped his head to her - but when it rose up once more, his eyes were glittering with mirth.  “Marquesa,” he said, making that rumbling-humming-chuckling noise again, “It will be as you say.”

And then, before she could ask him what he found so funny, he moved, passing by her to leap from one terrace to the next, making his way to the docks.  He moved less like a cat and more like water, flowing from level to level until he reached Maz, who showed no surprise at his sudden appearance, only indicating the smaller box she had been sitting on.  With far less effort than she or Maz ever would have expended, he picked up the crate in both paws, and with a powerful beat of his mighty wings, was airborne, soaring toward the terrace that held the outside entrance to the cellar.

Rey raced down to join Maz on the docks.  “Faster _and_ easier,” she told her breathlessly, eyeing Kylo Ren as he swooped back toward them for the next box.

And sure enough, the boxes disappeared one by one as the hour went on.  Maz left for the cellars soon after to put away the items in the crates, leaving Rey to oversee Kylo Ren’s deliveries.  Even when he began to whine about a strained wing muscle after a particularly large crate, the caskets were moved to the cellar faster than even Maz and Rey could have done working together.

When the final crate was gone and the docks were empty, Rey couldn’t help but look out on the lake and think: _I could get used to this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I last updated this, and unfortunately, I don't know when I'll be updating next. I'll try to get a chapter out soon, though!
> 
> I want to take the chance to thank everyone that's reading this - every kudos, comment, bookmark, and view means the world to me. I love you all, and I'm so glad that I'm getting the chance to share this story with all of you lovely people. <3


	6. Blood on the Cobblestones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter title: Kylo Ren Gets a Booboo

Somehow, the food _did_ get better after the deliveries.  For lunch that day, Maz made some sort of salad that looked like it was made of flower petals and berries that nearly made Rey cry from how incredible it tasted, and that evening, she managed to outdo herself once again with a venison stew with meat so tender it practically melted in her mouth.

Maz winked at her as Rey wolfed down her second bowl of stew.  “This is only the beginning,” she told her.  “Wait until spring comes in full.  We’ll have even more fresh fruit then - but for now, this will have to do,” she said as she pulled out a dessert of honeyed peaches with cream.

“You’re too good to me,” Rey said with a smile.

“Nonsense,” Maz replied.  “I’m exactly as good to you as deserve, and don’t try to tell yourself anything else.”

“Still,” she said, “I appreciate it.”  Except for Finn, Rey had never really had anyone that had wanted to take care of her before.  Perhaps it was only because it was her job to see her fed and clothed, but even then, Maz was far kinder to her than she needed to be - and for that, Rey would happily face down a hundred dragons, and then a hundred more after that.

When Rey emerged from her rooms the next morning, Kylo Ren was missing from all of his usual terraces.  This was not entirely unusual - he had disappeared from time to time before, but never for longer than a few hours.  Rey never knew where exactly he went, but she was sure it was somewhere out into the kingdom to do the Marquess’ dark bidding.

Still, she was a little disappointed.  After yesterday’s triumph, she had been looking forward to waltzing past his usual resting place, feeling smug and unafraid and superior. Oh, she knew it was petty, but did it _ever_ feel good.

Instead, Rey headed for the terraces that made up the castle gardens.  A few patches of snow remained, and a persistent chill was still in the air, but little green sprouts had popped up all over, covering the dirt with a carpet of green.  A couple of tenacious little plants were even growing up through the cracks in the stone.

Ever since it had started to grow a couple of weeks back, Rey had been _amazed_ by the gardens.  In Jakku, green hardly existed at all, except for the leafy vegetables Finn would sometimes bring  her from the farms to the north.  Even so, she had never seen the exact shade of green of these plants - the bright color, fresh and young, of new life and new beginnings.

Rey knew nothing about keeping a garden, but with a library as large as the one in the castle, that was easily remedied.  Reading still came a little slow, but Rey was finding the effort was worth the reward.  Maz had briefly pointed to the different parts of the garden and explained what would grow into what - but had also promised her that if there was anything she wanted to grow, she could order it and it would come in with the next shipment.

And so Rey had gone to the library and found as many books on plants as she could.  Though she recognized many of the names of plants, she couldn’t identify them on sight. She knew the basics - sunflowers were yellow and tall, while roses were red and had thorns (except Finn had told her once that he had seen a white rose?  Flowers were so confusing), but Rey had no idea what the difference between lavender and lilac was - apparently an important distinction.

The books were helping, though.  Not only did they describe how to grow certain plants and their properties, but some of them were _illustrated_.  With them, Rey began to lay out the plan for her garden - expanding upon Maz’ herb garden underneath the magnolia tree, its branches still bare from the chill, planting begonia flowers near the spiky bushes Rey presumed would one day be roses, with tulips and daffodils around the edges.  There was a large patch of dirt that she planned to sow with medicinal herbs - Rey had kept tiny jars of balm back in her barracks in Jakku in case of injury and sickness, and was delighted to realize that Maz did much the same.  The elderly servant had even promised to show her how to boil the herbs and flowers down into a salve for later use.

Rey was in the middle of pondering the logistics of growing beans near the walls of the castle when the sound of faraway wingbeats jerked her from her reverie.  She turned her head to look out over the lake and - yes, there he was, that dark shadow crossing the water, Kylo Ren returning from across the waves.

It took her a moment to realize something was wrong - probably longer than it should have, considering that she had spent several hours in the grip of his claws, soaring high above the earth.  His wingbeats were heavy and slow, and he skimmed too close to the water, rather than sailing on air currents high above to circle around the castle.  As he approached, she could see his head drooping lower than it should have.

Rey frowned as he wheeled around the island and out of sight.  Maybe she should go find him.  If he looked that bad, then something was probably wrong.  Then again, Rey shouldn’t really _care_ whether or not something was wrong with Kylo Ren.  Besides, he was a _dragon_ \- any problem he might have was unlikely to be something she could help with.

Hearing his clumsy landing on one of the terraces on the other side of the island cemented her decision.  Even as his weight landed heavily on the ground and his claws skittered across the cobblestones as he came to a graceless stop, Rey was on her feet and bounding up the stairs to his side.

She froze when she saw the streaks of red staining the stones, from the heavier skid marks from where he had landed to the dripping tracks leading right to the dragon himself. He was walking with a heavy limp, steadily making his way along the terrace, beads of blood sliding off his hide.  It was hard to tell the origin with his sleek scales.

“What _happened_ to you?”  Rey had only meant to check on him, but the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Kylo Ren jumped in surprise at the sound of her voice, then winced in pain.  If he hadn’t even noticed her approaching, he must have been in a lot of pain.

“Nothing at all,” he replied snidely.  Then again, if he was well enough to sass her, he couldn’t be hurting all that badly.

Still, she approached him, rolling up her sleeves as she went.  “Oh, and I guess this ‘nothing’ tore up your wing and caused your limp, hm?”

“They’re fine.  Inconsequential.”

“Sure they are, that’s why they’re bleeding like that.  Now stop trying to escape and let me take a look at you.”  Kylo Ren glared at her, but indeed stopped trying to crawl away from her, pretending like he _hadn’t_ been trying to flee from her like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Rey approached him carefully, as if he was a frightened animal - which, in a way, he was.  As she got closer, she could see the extent of his injuries.  His left wing was ragged - still intact, but little holes and scratches were scattered across the thin membrane.  Some of his dark scales, previously glossy and polished, were scuffed, as if they had been struck by something sharp.

The source of the red river running down his flank seemed to be on his back, right in the space where his shoulder met with the base of his left wing.  The areas near his joints were always missing a few scales, to allow for ease of movement, but this one was missing more than normal, creating the effect of a dark hole from which the blood leaked through.

That one in particular would have to be looked at.  “Stay right here,” she told him, but Kylo Ren snorted at her command.  “I’m serious, don’t move.  I need to grab a few things. I’ll be right back.”

As expected, of course, he didn’t do what he was told.  When she emerged from the castle cellars, her arms full of supplies, he had tried to leap up onto the next terrace, but had misjudged the distance.  When she rounded the corner, his front paws were gripping the edge of the next landing and his back legs scrabbled uselessly in the air.

“Get back down here!” she ordered.  “You’re getting blood everywhere, and probably hurting yourself even more.”  Kylo Ren turned his head and growled at her, his eyes fierce.

Rey sighed.   _“Please?”_ she tried again.  “I’m only trying to help.”

The hanging dragon glared for a moment longer, before he huffed, “Fine,” exhaling smoke as he did.  Slowly, he returned back to the ground, but still watched her warily - as if _she_ could hurt _him!_

The idea would have been laughable, if Rey hadn’t been focused on his wound.  She had worked on injured animals before, mostly horses - the perils of the desert were practically endless.  She knew better than anyone that a hurt and frightened animal was likely to lash out with little provocation.  Falcon had once kicked her in the stomach when she had been trying to pull a thorn out of the soft part of his hoof - though in his defense, Rey had been neither as gentle nor as vigilant as she should have been.  The bruise across her midsection had persisted for weeks.  If a horse could do that, she had no doubt that a huge brute like Kylo Ren, with claws and fangs and fiery breath, could do far worse, even if he _could_ talk back to her.

Still, the wound that was the source of all of that blood had to be nasty, and she wanted to look at it.  Kylo Ren wasn’t allowed to hurt her without the Marquess’ permission, anyways, and as far as she knew, Rey had yet to rouse her husband’s ire.

“Can you lay down?” she asked, standing on her toes in an effort to see the injury.  “I can’t see anything from here.

For a moment, it looked like Kylo Ren might ignore her and go back to trying to return to his cave.  Then, with a long-suffering sigh, he settled onto his stomach, his head tilted just slightly to watch her out of the corner of his eye.

Still, the injury was too high, so Rey approached him warily.  She rested a hand on the scales of his forepaw, and the dragon tilted his head just a little further in her direction. She hadn’t touched him since that day he had taken her from Jakku, and it was a surprise to feel the heat radiating from his body again.

With a deep breath, Rey braced her foot on his elbow and clambered up onto his back.  Her climb was clumsy - his scales were slick and his back was high - but she made it up with only a bit of scrambling and sat on his shoulder behind the injury, careful to avoid the spikes running down his back.

Gently, she peered through his scales to the source of the bleeding.  Underneath the natural armor was a much thinner hide, this one colored a dark gray instead of inky black - if she had thought his scales were warm to the touch, the skin underneath felt like liquid fire ran just beneath.

His injury had punched straight through the few scales left around the joint and into the flesh below.  The angle of the wound was terrible, dug in right where his shoulder met his wing.  She could already see some of the ligaments tearing from where he had strained to fly across the lake.  Gently, she probed the wound, picking out bits of shattered scales from the torn flesh.  His hide _shivered_ when she made contact with it with her fingers, and beneath her he made a low grumbling sound.

This didn’t look like the type of wound one got accidentally.

“Kylo,” Rey said lightly, “How did this happen?”

“I was hunting,” he hedged.

“Hunting...what?” she asked.

“Cattle,” he replied.

“I see,” she said.  “And did they belong to someone, or have cattle learned to wield crossbows since I’ve come to this island?” she asked as she pulled the head of the crossbow bolt out of his shoulder with a jerk.  Kylo Ren yelped beneath her, and Rey stored the bolt in her pack for safekeeping.

“I was hungry,” he snapped.  “There were cattle.  I took what was due to me.”

“What was _due_ to you?” Rey paused before she poured a canteen of water over the injury to clean it.  “You’re a _dragon_ \- supposedly an apex predator.  Shouldn’t you be hunting for yourself - wild boars and white stags and the like?”

“I could, but - “

“ _Instead_ ,” Rey cut him off, “You terrorize the poor farmers of your master’s realm and steal their livelihood.  Don’t they have enough problems already?  They have to deal with bandits and taxes and feeding their own without - “

“They don’t pay taxes,” Kylo Ren corrected her.

“Don’t play stupid,” she snapped back, sharp as a whip.  “I’ve lived in the Reach for years.  Tax season is the worst time of year.”

“You misunderstand,” he interrupted.  “The people of the Reach pay taxes to their local lords and to the Queen herself.  In other regions, they pay to their High Lords, as well - but the Marquess takes no taxes besides the ones collected from Takodana.  My meals _are_ his taxes.  His foolish people just don’t seem to understand that living under a dragon could be _much_ worse.”

 _That_ gave Rey pause.  She had never paid any mind to where her taxes went - it was just more money trickling from the poor to the rich at the same time every year.  “But why don’t you just collect taxes and keep the cattle here?  Have a farmer care for them in Takodana instead of abducting them from all over the region?”

“As you said,” Kylo replied.  “I am an apex predator.  I enjoy the hunt.  There is no sport in catching animals in a pen.  My master believes it is better this way - better to hunt his people’s livestock than his people.”

Rey considered his words as she threaded her needle.  The wound would need stitches, there was no doubt about it.  “I see,” she said uncertainly, though she wasn’t sure she did.  Then again, she didn’t claim to understand the needs of a dragon.

She almost felt sorry for him as she began stitching the wound shut.  The hide under his scales was thick enough that she couldn’t use a regular needle on it, and was forced to improvise with a sterilized leather needle.  Every time she dug the needle into his flesh, he would jump, though he made no move to complain.  She felt sorry for him - every time she would complete another stitch, it was like a prick in her own skin, and her shoulder ached in sympathy.  Out of habit, she reached out to stroke his scales and hush him gently like she was soothing one of her injured horses.

To her surprise, it actually worked.  As she pet his scales, he slowly relaxed, the tension going out of his body as he melted into the ground.  The eye that was watching her drifted halfway closed, still regarding her, though not quite as fiercely.

Soon enough, the stitches were done, and Rey smeared a thick layer of calendula balm over the injury to prevent infection.  She slid off his back with much more grace than she had had when climbing up.  For just a moment, she rested a hand against his scales, feeling the heat beneath them and the steady rise and fall of his chest, strong as a bellows.

Now came the unpleasant part.

“You can’t fly until that’s healed.”

Kylo Ren’s big, brown eye snapped open.  “Excuse me?” he snarled, the anger returning to his voice.  So much for being civil.  “You presume to tell _me_ \- “

“Your wound goes straight through the muscle,” she cut him off.  “The ligament between your shoulder and wing is already weakening, and flying too much will only agitate it more.  If you use your wings too much more, the muscle could tear clean through, and then you won’t be able to fly _ever_.”

She could see the witty retort rise to Kylo’s tongue, and then watched as he choked on it.  “Fine,” he snapped, rising to his feet once more and jostling her off.  “As you say, _Marquesa_ ,” he said with a dip of his head that looked almost like a mocking bow.  His taunt lacked venom - he must have known Rey was right - and as he sauntered away from her, head held high, Rey smothered a laugh.  It was hard to look proud and imperious when one was walking with a limp.

 _Ungrateful beast,_ she thought with surprising fondness as she watched him crawl away, and went about her day once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS IT'S BEEN A WHILE
> 
> In all seriousness, I want to apologize for this update taking so long. My inspiration for and my confidence in my writing tends to wax and wane, and it's been waning for a while now, unfortunately. Thankfully, my excitement over TLJ has me _dying_ to write more fic, so...here you go!
> 
> You may notice that this chapter is much shorter than my previous chapters. Unfortunately, I think that the longer chapters are only hurting my ability to write - I get burned out part of the way through and can't continue. Therefore, I'm going to try to write shorter chapters from here on out. That means chopping up chapters that I already have so that they're not unified by theme, but going more or less scene-by-scene. Please be patient with me during this transition period, it may mean wildly inconsistent chapter lengths for the next few chapters while I figure it out.
> 
> I want to take the chance to thank everyone who's supported me during my long hiatus. You guys are fantastic, and I'm amazed to realize that reviews are still coming in _months_ after my last update. You're wonderful~  <3 I'd also like to welcome any new Reylos that joined the fandom after TLJ that are just joining us now. Please know that you are amazing and I would happily take a bullet for any of you.
> 
> I look forward to seeing you all in the next update - which will hopefully happen much quicker this time around...


	7. Repair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter title: "lol u up? ;)"

Rey was most of the way asleep when she heard the door to the bedroom swing open.  As usual, no light accompanied her husband’s arrival, only the soft shuffling of his footsteps as he entered their chambers and prepared for bed.  Usually, she didn’t even wake up when he came to bed, and she curled deeper into the covers, intent on finding her way back into the realm of dreams.

Except...she couldn’t.  Instead of sleepily taking note of his appearance and falling back asleep, Rey listened to him move around the room.  There was something different about his gait - he was moving much slower than he usually did, with more of a drag to his steps than she was used to.  And there was something else, too - something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.  A tension in his form, though she couldn’t see him in the blackness.

She heard him accidentally run into something in the dark, and he hissed out a muffled curse.  She would have thought he would have the layout of the room memorized by now, but apparently he was too distracted by  _ whatever _ it was to pay attention to where his feet were supposed to go.

Rey lifted her upper body from the mattress and propped herself up on her elbows.  “Hey,” she said.  “Are you okay?”

Her husband paused for a moment in his shuffling, and Rey could feel his gaze on her.  “Hi,” he said back.  “I didn’t mean to wake you.  Sorry.”

She shook her head, though he couldn’t see her.  “It’s fine.  I was having trouble sleeping anyways,” she lied - she slept like the dead on this cushy mattress, regardless of if there was an unknown man sleeping beside her or not.  “Really, though, are you alright?  That sounded like it hurt.”

She heard him shift his weight from one foot to the other.  “You’re going to laugh at me.”

“I might,” she said honestly, “but you won’t know until you tell me.”

His weight settled on the other side of the bed.  He deliberated for a few moments before speaking.  “I fell down the stairs today.”

Rey choked on her giggle, and she could feel him glaring at her.  Then, he let out a soft huff of a chuckle, joining in on her mirth.  “It’s a  _ little _ funny, I guess.  I was reading something and wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, missed a step, and fell the whole way down.  Maz patched me up - said I tore a muscle and dislocated my shoulder.  She also said I deserved it.”

“You kind of did,” Rey replied.

“I can’t believe it.  My  _ wife _ and my  _ housekeeper _ are teaming up against me.”

“You’re the one that married  _ me _ and hired  _ her _ .  This reflects more on you than it does on either of us,” Rey said with a smile.  It felt a little strange to be bantering with him like this, but not entirely wrong.  “You’ll probably feel better after a good night’s rest,” she said, settling back onto her pillow.

“I hope so,” he groused, though he still sounded more amused than angry as he lay down on the bed and pulled the covers over his body.  As was his custom, he turned his body to curl up on the side of the bed and give her as much space as possible.

As soon as he did, he jerked, and Rey could practically feel the pain radiating off of him.  Still, he didn’t turn to lay on his back or stretch out his injured limb, instead choosing to lay directly on his hurt shoulder to avoid getting any closer to her.

It was...surprisingly considerate of him.  She could at least return the favor.

She reached out for him in the dark, brushing her fingers over the skin of his shoulder to get his attention before withdrawing.  “It’s going to take longer to heal like that,” she said to him.  “You’re only going to aggravate the injury by laying like that.”

He turned his body slightly, and once more Rey felt the weight of his regard on her.  “Are you sure?” he asked softly.

Rey swallowed.  “Yeah, it’ll be fine.  It’s just for a few nights, right?”

The two carefully rearranged themselves on the bed, working together to find a position that allowed her husband to stretch out his shoulder without crowding Rey into the corner of the bed - or shoving her off entirely.  After a couple of failed attempts - how did someone who spent all his time holed up in the East Wing have such broad shoulders? - her husband gave a sigh of defeat and gently slipped his uninjured arm around her shoulders.

“Is this all right?” he asked her as she settled the back of her head on his bicep.  Like this, their sides were pressed together, and his breath tickled her cheek.  She could smell the sharp scent of the calendula balm Maz must have smeared over his shoulder to keep the swelling down.

Still, it was a vast improvement over being pushed onto the floor.  “Yeah,” she replied, staring up at the ceiling.  “Well...good night,” she said awkwardly.

“Good night,” he replied, sounding equally uncertain.

Despite the fact that she was practically  _ cuddling _ with the stranger who was her husband, Rey found her eyes growing heavy soon after that.  His arm made for a surprisingly comfortable pillow, and his body  _ radiated _ heat, leaving Rey cocooned in warmth.  She almost regretted that she hadn’t done this earlier in their marriage - sharing her bed with a hearth in the dead of Rey’s first real winter would have been wonderful.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t just let her sleep.  The hand wrapped around her shoulder gently poked her.  “Hey.  Are you awake?”

“Mmph,” Rey grumbled, opening her eyes to stare at the ceiling again.  “I am now.  You keep saying you’re sorry for waking me up.  I’m starting to think you don’t mean it.”

For a long moment, he was silent.

Then, “I wanted to thank you.”

Rey turned her head towards him.  “For what?”

“For Kylo.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”  Rey heard him swallow.  “I know, I know.  He’s a miserable, grouchy, ungrateful beast who doesn’t deserve your help - but I’m glad you did, anyways.  No one looks at a dragon and thinks they need help, even when they’re bleeding all over the courtyard - but you did.  I’m grateful for it - and he is, too.”

Rey snorted.  “I’m sure he is.”

“He  _ is _ ,” he insisted.  His arm squeezed just a little tighter around her, as if to impress upon her the importance of what he was saying, before releasing her again.  “Kylo’s proud, and he doesn’t express himself very well.  His first instinct is to lash out whenever someone’s kind to him, like a wild dog at the hand trying to feed it.  He’s not used to people being nice to him - for good reason, of course, but still.”

Rey mulled over his words.  “You really care about him, don’t you?” she asked.

“Not really,” he replied, “but we’re stuck with each other all the same.  Someone has to look out for him.  Someone has to say the things he’s too proud to say.”  Then, he chuckled.  “He likes you - did you know that?  He’s all but ignored everyone else in Takodana, but he enjoys it when you approach him.”

Rey barked out a laugh.  “Now I  _ know _ you’re teasing me.”

Her husband released that soft huff of laughter again.  “Maybe, maybe not,” he replied.  “I’ll let you sleep now.  I’ll try not to wake you again.”

“You better not,” Rey replied.  She allowed her eyes to slip shut once more and relaxed against his arm.

It took her a long time to fall asleep after that, but fall asleep she did.

She wasn’t roused until several hours after that, when her husband carefully extricated his arm out from under her head.  Rey grumbled a sleepy complaint and flopped onto her stomach to bury her face into the pillow.   _ Stupid husbands with stupid predawn wakeup rituals. _

Her husband leaned down and stroked her hair, murmuring a soft apology as Rey nuzzled deeper into her pillow.  He pulled the heavy blankets further up her shoulders and tucked her back in.

Just before Rey fell back into the blackness of sleep, she heard him rumble one more thing.

_ “Sweet dreams, little Marquesa.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are going to get spoiled if I regularly start updating this fast.
> 
> In other news, I'm pretty sure this chapter is going to make this story break 1000 kudos! I can't say I have anything special planned for when it happens - honestly, I never expected to get this far, both in terms of writing and interest - but I'm so happy it did! I just want to thank each and every one of you for your comments, kudos, and general interest in this story, as well as for sticking with me after my long hiatus. You guys are the best! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on Tumblr at [wordsinthenight](http://wordsinthenight.tumblr.com/) !
> 
> Also, many thanks to my Beta reader and roommate! Her AO3 is [mononoke2468](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mononoke2468/profile), and her Tumblr is also [mononoke2468](http://mononoke2468.tumblr.com/)!


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